H told me that she doesn't feel like a birthday dinner with all friends around. She said she just wants to go to the fair-ground with me and my sister and her recently made 3 friends that she knew through my sister. So we did it that way.
This is H on her last birthday on the 8th of August. We had great fun. So much that I lost my voice for 3 days that followed.
The other day when I stayed over at her place, I woke up before her. As I didn't want to disturb, I decided to quietly leave the appartment. I looked at her in her sleep. And I felt compassion. Now that she was quiet, now that she was gone to far countries on the deep sleep map, now that she was quiete, I could let my self speak the truth and not to celebrate or cheer up anymore.
I felt compassion for her broken little heart full of colors, ready to make dreams all the time, her constant belief in happiness..
For what she went through was hard to see the close ones on her birthday.
For it was closeness that hurt her colorful mocking bird lately.
I left the appartment in the silence of knowing these. The silence underneath our fair-ground joy.
* Don't Kill the Birthday Girl: Tales From An Allergic Life is the beautiful title of the forthcoming memoir of Sandra BEASLEY that I am looking forward to read soon
5 years ago