September is a birthday month

First, I'd like to say "Joanna, I did not forget your birthday. I just haven't done anything about it that YOU can see. But wait...in a few days...voila!"

This really is a birthday month. My little brother, Jess, celebrated his 28th (I think) birthday on September 2. For most of August I thought about what I could send him. My mom mentioned that consumable goods would be most welcomed. Cans of tuna fish, cup-o-noodles and the like. Cup-o-noodles? Apparantly, the army food is so bad (What a surprise. What a cliche.) that dehydrated noodles and specs that resemble vegetable colors is considered highly prized gourmet cuisine. Great. I was going to be super fancy and get him some heat and serve presereved meals from Trader Joe's--they sell a not so bad dahl and other similar foods in foil packages. Shawn and I took some with us when we went camping, a few years back, and they were pretty good. Better than the freeze dried "camper's food" from REI.

September 2 came and went, so did the rest of September. I'd been to TJ's a few times, just to get a few essentials, like that damned greek yogurt that Ali turned me onto last time I visited her. Heaven to the taste buds, sigh. I was always in such a rush that I would leave without any items to send to Jess; I'd shop for him later, plenty of time. Today, as anyone can see by reading the date, is September 19. I have yet to mail anything to him, let alone a letter. However, I finally did buy him a gift to mail with a letter that I will write, before Wednesday. I panicked when I bought it. I know that he requested that we not send items that he'll have to take home (if he they let him come home when he's supposed to, in late fall.) but I was in a hurry and I have to mail this before I leave on my trip. Besides, I made excuses to myself, he'll like this. It'll be hours of entertainment. He's very interested in drawing and art and maybe even this genre of comic book. If he's not into it, yet, he will be!! Now, I have to call my mom and get that military address that forwards stuff to him. I have to call her every time I have a letter to mail, because I can never find that scrap of paper I wrote it down on. By calling my mother, I am openly admitting to her that I did not mail him something in time for his actual birthday.

Birthday number two belongs to Joanna. September 17. We've been friends since we were freshmen at Moon Valley. We had p.e. together. That is a very bonding experience. I'm only a couple of days behind on that one. Besides, I bought her a funny little gift before Saturday. I just haven't sent it.

Dana's birthday was yesterday, the 18th. Once September begins, that date is a constant in my thoughts. What would she be doing now? How old would she be? Where would she be living? She'd be a full on adult, by now. Possibly with a job or a husband or even a family. It's as if I think I have something to do--did I forget to turn off the oven?--and yet, I know that I didn't forget anything. There is no action to be taken, no gift to buy, phonecall to make. By the time the 18th actually comes along, I'm unprepared. I write the date on a sales receipt and am overwhelmed by the weightiness of those numbers. 9-18. I miss my little sister. It is as impossible to concieve of her absence, now, as it was when she died. It is bewildering that I can't call her to wish her a happy birthday. An incomplete sensation, like a kinesthtic reflex that is no longer necessary. I say "Happy Birthday, Dana." to the air, to the molecules that buzz around because that must be where she is now--or rather, where I like to think she is. A part of the Universe, of the air that we all breathe.