Christmas Birth Day

 

As I've discussed before, Patchwork Memoir is my vision for writing family history in a format my children (and their children) will read. As I discovered during the NaNoWriMo 2020 challenge, this is far easier said than done. Genealogy research seems to raise more questions than it answers, making further investigation necessary.

This story, however, is complete.

On this, my 61st birthday, I thought I would share my first Patchwork Memoir with you.

My Birth Day

On December 15, 1959, at approximately 4:40pm, I entered the world and forever changed the dynamic of the Coleman household. Mom and Dad had been married for nine years and given up hope of having a child of their own.

But even after all those expectant years, Mom said she was unprepared to care for a newborn. Her dog-eared copy of Doctor Spock's Baby and Child Care confirmed her anxiety. And I suppose it didn't help that I was a colicky baby.

Apparently, no one slept much for the first three months of my life. Mom said they tried everything -- even a little bourbon in the bottle. Dad joined me for that feeding. The bourbon worked better for him than for me.

I never enjoyed a December birthday. While my parents kept my birthday special and a separate event from Christmas, I hated the idea of waiting another 355 days before the next gift-giving celebration. So, I would often invent other times throughout the year to party.

June 15, 1965, stands out as the first alternate celebration. I was playing on the driveway when I realized it was my half birthday. I'm not sure why I made that calculation (or how), but the discovery excited me. I ran inside and announced we needed a party. Mom obliged by baking a cake and inviting family members over for dessert (presents, however, were discouraged).

When I was eight years old, we celebrated my birthday in October with a Halloween theme. Guests wore costumes and we had a pinata as the main attraction. Cake, presents, candy, and friends. No wonder I have such fond memories of this particular celebration.

As I grew older, the elaborate birthday parties gave way to intimate sleepovers. Unfortunately, mid-December also meant the end of the fall semester. Studying for final exams took precedent over celebrations, and often my most difficult final fell on the 15th.

When it came time to choose a date for my wedding, I intentionally selected Saturday, June 26th -- exactly six months from Christmas. Now I would finally have the opportunity to celebrate a special occasion separate from the other holiday festivities.

When we decided to have children, I vowed to never have a December baby. I wanted all my children to enjoy two distinct celebrations. But as Mom used to say, "Never say never." On December 8, 1988, Brian Totoro was born.

However, as I matured over the years, I learned to appreciate my birth month. It is nice to share this special occasion with my only son -- and my one true Savior. And now I much prefer to surprise others with gifts than to receive them.