I was woken up at around 9:00 in the morning; my mother had told me to take a shower because my Dad was coming to pick me up. Before I knew it- he was in the driveway and I was out the door. It was my 11th birthday... May 16, 1999.
When I had left, my Mom hadn't even wished me a happy birthday... it didn't bother me though- I was going back to her place at the end of the day anyway... so I didn't let it bother me too much.

I went to my grandparents house with my Dad to find the usual surprise awaiting. My Dad's side of the family was there to bestow gifts upon me and enjoy endless amounts of cake and ice cream. The day of fun had turned into night and signaled that it was time for me to go back home to my Mom's.

When I arrived back into the driveway, two bags full of gifts and one half eaten birthday cake richer... there were no lights on in the duplex. There was no indication that something was planned and absolutely no sign of anything happy in sight. I walked up to the front door, put my key in the knob, and swung it wide open so I could fit all of my bags through.
At the time- part of me was wishing that the lights would flick on and another birthday party was in store for me... but this wasn't the case. The only light came from the cracks of my mother's bedroom door.

"Mom, I'm home," I said. She returned my comment with an, "OKAY!"

I got all of my stuff into the duplex, flicked the lights so my Dad knew it was okay to leave, and locked the front door.
It was about ten minutes before my Mom emerged from her bedroom and sat down in front of me. She took up the bags with all of my gifts and went through them- saying nice things like, "Oh -that's really cool," and "looks like you got a good haul this year!"

Then, she took my half eaten birthday cake with the six remaining candles, lit them- and started to sing happy birthday.

When she finished, she looked at me and she said- "Now Cameron- I want you to know that I love you very, very much... but I just couldn't afford to get you anything for your birthday this year."

Immediately- I started to cry. I didn't need any gifts from her- nothing material could replace the level of love I was receiving at that very moment. I wrapped my arms around her tight and didn't let go for what seemed like forever.

Today- my Mother battles a narcotic drug addiction as she tip toes on the line of overdose at least once a week. I can't seem to make the same connection with her that I was able to as a child. I miss that woman so much... how she used to be.
Lately- I've been taxing my brain- trying to think of a way to tell her that I love her so.