The Budget of Paradox

Sophia: Your mother’s birthday is tomorrow. Does she even celebrate it anymore? When we were married and living on Kauai, I started to plan a big birthday party for her one year. But she told me to scale it back considerably. She just wanted a small affair.

When I first met your mother, she was 31. And I’m sure you know by now that some women hate getting old and sometimes deny their correct age. Sometimes they try to hide their age; but sometimes their denial runs so deep, they genuinely forget.

Shortly after we met, your mother had a doctor’s appointment and I went along. I can’t remember why she was seeing a doctor. I’m sure it was something minor. In the waiting room, they had her fill out a form. One of the questions was her age. I distinctly remember that she wrote “29”. Then she stopped and thought about it for a second. Then, she crossed it out and wrote “30”. Then she stopped again and thought about it some more. Then, she crossed it out again and wrote “31”. Then she started to cry.

We laughed about it together.

Your mother and I back when she was 29 30 31. The other couple is the famous painter Walfrido and his wife.

All of my memories of your mom since the divorce are bad. Now, she just seems like an angry, paranoid, selfish old lady who lives in some alternate reality that she’s invented. It’s too bad you never got to know her like she was back in her thirties. She was funny and clever and loving and surprising and daring. Her humor was twisted and dark (and I mean that in a good way; I mean that in the best possible way). We all change, I guess. But my love for my children hasn’t changed.