Liz is forty years old today. She was born on April 3, 1980. If I remember correctly it was 2:14 pm. My X and I had been at the hospital since before midnight the night before.
I have not had any interaction with Liz for 19 years, give or take a few days.
So much for statistics. My thoughts and emotions surfaced with increasing frequency and intensity as Liz’s birthday approached. Yet it is difficult to put it all into words.
It happens often. I wrote a song. It was the second song written since my musical awakening (after The Song I Never Wrote for You). It just spilled out. It, too, was intense. The song is intense. It is called Tell Elizabeth I Love Her.
I wanted to name her Beth Ann. I was concerned that someone would start calling her Liz if she was given the more formal Elizabeth. But formality got the win and we called her Beth for her first several years. That is until about 1st or 2nd grade when she decided for herself that she wanted to be called Liz. Damn! So it goes.
Piano, dance, Sunday school. I remember once taking a low-maintenance back road from work, at an unsafe speed, to get home in time to take Liz to a dance lesson. I’m surprised the car didn’t break as it bounced and swerved.
We went camping, saw Yellowstone, the Tetons, Arches, Dinosaur, and Rocky Mountain NP, among other fascinating places. We went to school events. It sure seems like we did all the normal stuff.
But during and after the divorce things never were the same. I moved out of our home on short notice having been given an ultimatum by the X. I tried to explain to the children. But I could never persuade Liz to come for every-other-weekend visits – ever. I made a point to prepare a room for her in my new place. She never saw it.
She kept in contact a few times. She brought her date to see me on her way to a school dance. Once she came to exchange Christmas presents, though I heard she kept the car running while there.
I am keenly aware that her Mother influenced her emotions and often refused to hand Liz the phone when I called. But any semblance of connection ended when Liz went away to college. I went to visit once shortly after she moved into her dorm (we went shopping for pet fish) and again around her 21st Birthday when I asked to bring her a gift. It was an ankle bracelet. I did attend her college graduation. I didn’t think Liz knew I was there, but my son told me later that she did.
“Child’s death, a parent’s nightmare
Children’s lives a parent’s dream
By her choice, her distant absence
I feel the torment in between”
So it goes.
A beautiful and emotional tribute. 😢❤️