A Sad Easter

I'm kinda sad tonight. And I really know it's no treat to go to someone's blog and it's not all fun, fun, happy, happy, and I really didn't want to post because this isn't fun, fun, happy, happy, but I think if I can get this out in the open and be done with it, I can get past it.

Since the kids were little, I've always tried to make Easter as special as I could. They'd each get Easter baskets, of course, but I'd go the extra mile and give them a few little presents besides. It was usually clothes they could wear to school after spring break, or maybe it was something special that I knew would bring smiles to their faces. No, they weren't spoiled, this was just something I liked doing.

And I'd always have a big feast just as if it were Christmas or Thanksgiving.

Even though my kids are grown now, I still like carrying the tradition. The Easter basket idea has been replaced by a gift certificate to the tanning bed for my daughter and I was planning on taking my son shopping for some new jeans and a shirt either Monday or Tuesday.

And, of course, there would be the big feast - ham, crab cakes (my son's favorite), baked macaroni, baked corn, regular corn (for my son because he hated baked corn), asparagas and potatoe salad. I went all out.

I had even bought my son a couple of chocolate Easter bunnies that was the tradition I have carried on since he was young, and even though he's 23 now, he still looks forward to them (or, at least he humors me).

Dinner was going to be kind of late since my daughter had to go in at 4 and would be off at 8. I figured she would pick up her brother on her way home from work and we could just eat a little later than usual.

I cleaned as if a guest was coming, tearing through the place in record speed while the food is cooking and I'm working on my virtual book tours. Everything was coming together. Or so I thought.

I told my daughter to call her father and tell him the plans so that he could tell my son when he woke up that I had Easter dinner with crab cakes (his favorite) and the whole shebang. She said she would.

Now, keep in mind the last time I saw my son was Christmas...let's see...four months ago. It's not like he's halfway across the world either. He lives about 10 - 15 minutes away with his father right now.

I've blogged about him before, but to refresh your memory, he has Marfans, but to look at him, you would think he was pulling your leg because he looks perfectly normal. He gets tired easily and his back hurts occassionally, but so far, knock on wood, that seems to be the only thing wrong. Yet, he insists on not getting out there and living a normal life, and he puts up a brick wall when you try to talk to him about it. I gave up preaching to him and, to be truthful, I'm at a loss as to what to do anymore.

Well, it got to be 8:00 and no word from my daughter who was supposed to call me when she was to get off work. So, I picked up the phone and dialed my son.

His father answered and got my son on for me.

The conversation went something like this....

"Did Melissa call you?"

"Call me?"

"Yeah, she was supposed to call you to come over for Easter dinner. I'm having crab cakes and macaroni & cheese."

"She didn't call."

Then, I hear him asking his father if she'd called, and then he got back on and said, "Dad's fixing steaks, though."

I feel the lump forming in the base of my throat and my breathing starts accelerating and I'm trying real hard not to cry.

"But, Ryan...it's Easter."

"I didn't even know it was Easter. It's just another holiday."

He's not smart-assy or anything and truly feels bad about it, but when I ask him if he's coming or not, he just says, "I don't know," after sighing like this is the biggest decision he's ever made.

"I'll call you back later," I told him and hung up without even an I love you or anything.

I get up to check on the crabcakes and tears are stinging my eyes. I have waited four months to see him and he disses me again. On Easter. Not that it being a holiday makes a bit of difference, but freaking still.

My daughter calls a few minutes later and I tell her to come on home, that I didn't think Ryan was coming. She calls her father and he really feels bad about it, but he forgot to tell Ryan that she called and that he was "scheduled" to eat Easter dinner with us.

Well, I'm at the point now that there is no point in having a son and being a mother if one of the partners aren't willing.

So here I sit eating crabcakes and macaroni and cheese and thinking where in the hell I went wrong. What's the point in being a mother if you can't BE a mother? I mean, isn't seeing your child one of the dividends?

Life royally freaking sucks right now.