Bitter, Party of One

I make homemade cards. I don't make them as often as I would like but I've been doing it for years and when I do make one, it's meant as a special treat, both for the recipient and for me. I make one every year for JT's birthday and I always write a special message and then I save these cards so that one day he can look back and see how much he is loved.

When Lisa and I were raising JT together, she sometimes made fun of my cards. I took the ribbing and kept my mouth shut. But it sometimes hurt me that she didn't see how much these offerings of my heart meant to me.

In the course of cleaning up the things left on my table last night I came across a homemade card that I hadn't made. Turns out that Lisa had made a homemade card for JT and given it to him with his birthday presents. It was a little like a sucker punch to see it. And, honestly, it made me really angry. Making cards is my way of showing my love for my son. And when she was included in it, when I asked her for help in crafting my yearly message to him, she was often dismissive, like my actions were a meaningless gesture. But now that she's gone; now that she is no longer in his world on a daily basis; now that she's demonstrated just what she really cares about, she makes a card for him? Can't she find her own way of being there for him?

Update: Thanks to everyone for their supportive comments. It means a lot.