Happy Birthday Tom

Yesterday was our son's 34th birthday...March 24, 1988.


We had a simple family dinner at home. We grilled some large steaks and had chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream for desert but no singing or candles because my son and husband thought singing and candles would be very weird. I was open to it -- I'm open to a lot of things now that I never thought I would be, but that's another story.


Our daughter Hannah couldn't make it as it was a very busy work week and she lives in Los Angeles which without traffic is about 2 1/2 hours away but with traffic, well, who knows. But she was going to celebrate on her own (or with friends?) by having Burmese food. There was a fabulous Burmese restaurant in Palo Alto that was Tom's favorite where the two of them celebrated his 30th birthday together. So Hannah, living in LA as she does, has access to a bounty of diverse cuisines and apparently, there is a Burmese place where she can celebrate her brother and one of his favorite foods.


I also posted the photo (below) of Tom's first birthday - chocolate cake all over his face and grabbing at the super fun Snoopy paper party hat - on Facebook. I don't really even know why as I rarely go to Facebook any more. But I did it on both my page and his "in remembrance" page. He really never posted anything there either and his former girlfriend is immortalized there with him as well since he never changed the picture after they broke up and I couldn't change it after he passed since I didn't and don't have the password. If it was possible to change it, I couldn't figure it out. It is no longer possible as far as I can tell. It is frozen forever exactly as it is.


The thing that I'm finding to be rather sad about the "in remembrance" page is that no one but me ever posts anything and I rarely do. I feel that I would like to simply take it down. But then, it's removing him and everything that was there forever and always and I can't bring myself to do that either.


As always, Facebook seems to bring me more problems than solutions. More grief than joy. Oh well.

But you have always been a joy -- at least 99% of the time!



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