Mailbox

As I grabbed the mail from the box this afternoon, I realized it held more than just my Southern Living magazine and advertisements.  I realized I held more than just excitement over the magazine.

It was the continuous disappointment that snaked it's way out of the box and punched me in the gut.

I have been walking to the mailbox everyday with the subconscious thoughts that somewhere among the junk and bills, I would find something from home...a birthday card from anyone in my family.

Even though I haven't spoken to or had contact with my immediate family in nearly five years.  And even after all this time, I still long to have some tangible, healthy contact from them.

There is no real reason for me to ever get my hopes up that this will happen.  Honestly, it didn't happen much before all contact with them stopped.

For two years prior to cutting contact, nobody had given my birthday much thought.  I got a phone call or two from one of my brothers a few days late.  However, it would be several weeks before my mom acknowledged my birthday. 

I have to believe that any woman who gives birth to a child would remember that day forever.  How could they not?  I don't think she forgot, I think she just didn't care.  I know she didn't care.

My mom has never been into celebrating my birthday.  By not into it, I mean she usually watched whatever horrific thing my dad was doing to me and never did anything special.  She sent a couple cards after I was married, but usually weeks to months late.

Nobody else in my family has ever really sent cards on my birthday.  I had a sister-in-law once who usually would send a card with pictures of my niece and nephew.  That sister-in-law was smarter than anyone gave her credit for and got out of the family....but that's another blog post for another time.

So, I have no real reason to expect something from them.  But that does little to squelch what I think is a natural desire.  I wish that desire would die in me so that I am not constantly disappointed.  If I could change it, I would.

At least I only have one more day to walk to the mailbox to be let down.  I'm not sure my broken heart could take much more.  I've said it before and I'm sure I will say it again...I don't understand why they never wanted me.