Happy Birthday

No. Not ironic. “Ironic” means “happening in the opposite way to what is expected and typically causing wry amusement because of this.”

This, in fact, aligned perfectly with everything Ma is, and it wasn’t all that amusing.

Since I was born, it was a point of pride that I shared a birthday month with Ma. We were the only ones in the family who were January babies. The shared birthday month was always our point of connection, one that I wore like a pearl choker in my youth — an adornment at first — and then as I grew larger, a noose. I was her birthday present, she told everyone with swagger.

I only realized in retrospect what my discomfort was born of: even my day of birth was centered around her.