The Day I Should Never Forget

It was like any other day; got off from work, ate a plain breakfast, tucked myself under the sheets, then snorted like a pig. But it was a sleep cut short by a phone call. With much effort, I checked the time and it was just 9 o’clock in the morning. It was just almost an hour since I dozed off so answering the phone was the last thing on my mind.

It was my sister calling. So I thought I had to take it. But before I did, I asked myself what could it be this time? I hoped it was nothing terrible. Then it dawned on me with so much guilt and remorse-- it was my dad’s 59th birthday. I remembered encircling the 30th of January on the calendar but still my memory failed me.

I can’t believe I almost forgot – well, I guess I did-- that it was his birthday. I really felt bad and stupid that I tried so hard not to let him know that I almost forgot about it. I sounded like I was to surprise him with the call that early considering I had to sleep. But deep inside there was never a second that I didn't feel ashamed of myself during. The conversation ended well. I can tell that he was happy that I “remembered” his birthday.

But until now, the guilt is still making me uncomfortable. How could I forget my old man's birthday? Forgetting something as important is something I consider a mortal sin towards the people I hold dear.

So now, I am filling up as many reminders as my phone can hold. I really can never forgive myself if history is going to repeat itself.