I turned 50 on a Saturday. When I got out of bed, I expected at the very least a “Happy Birthday” greeting from my husband, but there was nothing. My son had math homework so I went with him downstairs if he needed help. We spent many hours downstairs and my husband came down few times to check on us. When my son was done, I went up to my room to get ready because my cousin had invited me to her house. She had a “Red Hat Society” party and thought since this organization only accept ladies who are 50 and older, that inviting on my 50th birthday would be appropriate.
My husband never organized any birthday celebrations for me, every year my parents or other relatives would have me over for a dinner and my husband always attended these dinners. I, on the other hand, always celebrated his birthdays in very big ways. His birthday is on January 1st, and I always had a big open house brunch on that day to celebrate his birthday. It didn’t matter how late we stay up the night before, if I had to go without any sleep, I would just to celebrate my husband’s birthdays. We would normally get at least 50 to 60 people on his birthdays in our small house but that did not matter to me. The only thing that mattered was to make him feel important and celebrated.
On my 50th birthday, he didn’t say or do anything. I went to my cousin’s house and she told me that my husband had sent flowers to her house for me. She and all the people there thought that my husband was so wonderful and nice for doing that. He did it for that exact purpose; to have all the people there thing highly of him. He did not want me to be happy, he didn’t care about that, only what other people think of him.
My husband had many chances over the years to show me that he cared, that he is truly a husband and family man, but he, unfortunately, never did.