My Birthday

Tomorrow is my birthday.  I never used to think that my birthday affected me much when I was growing up.  I mean, I always…ALWAYS…thought about my mother on that day.  I figured that if there was one day of the entire year that she wondered about me, it was my birthday.  But I never connected a conscious feeling of sadness to that particular event, until about a year ago when I happened upon my 2^nd grade report card.  I was completely shocked, almost in disbelief, when I read my teacher’s comment from the last grading period:  “We had the problem of extreme sadness for days over school closing and now this has switched to something akin to anger.  She’s a deep little girl.”