Another birthday. I don't know why birthdays render me useless for a few days - but they do, It may be that so many younger people say so many well-meant things, and so many older people express gratitude for still being here. I'm sort of stuck somewhere in that middle ground. Last night as the clock grew nearer to midnight and I was deeply engrossed in Call The Midwife, season 2, episode 3,(why do people with British accents always sound so good??? And why don't they caption British actors so I can understand what they are saying?)) as well as reviewing hours of other peoples' lives on FB... The part of my brain that was still unengaged was pondering what I would leave behind if I died right there...on the spot...
I concluded that I leave 2 blogs that I share with no one unless he or she finds them A handful of friends who would probably miss me, 2 dogs who in the end will be loyal to anyone who feeds them or tosses a ball, my 3 husband(s), my few remaining relatives, and maybe my son because he appears unable to live his life independently. I won't live on in my non-existent grandchildren and that is disappointing...grandchildren give you a chance to fix things you may have messed up with your own kids......there are no beach trips, or Disney trips or family fun in Cancun ahead. The holidays are not very exciting - just a bunch of disgruntled adults sitting around sucking food and drink and lamenting something (like I am doing now). I would be taking my memories with me (and there are some doozies) because I can't write most of them down without affecting someone else.
If I sound depressed, I'm not. There is a unexpected pull, an internal tug that I did not know existed until I turned 60. It grows a little more insistent each year. It triggers an internal review of where I've been and where I might still go. It randomly selects pictures from my life and makes me review them. It whispers "Is this it?" (And it makes me think of that awful Peggy Lee song, Is That All There IS?) It ennumerates my losses and repeatedly tells me what I should be grateful for. Every year has some sort of loss...either physical or personal... and I don't do losses well. This tug is relentless...it pushes me but not in any specific direction. I add and subtract things from my life. I change things up. But it's still my life and I missed a bunch of pieces that I really wanted. Small things. Things I'm surprised to discover I really wanted. It's that damn negative gene...passed down from Mom and Gramma..(.Fortunately it will not be passed down by me)
A birthday is a reason to celebrate...so tonight I am going out for Italian...(I wish it was an Italian named Paulo...I always liked the way that name sounded.. Pow lowww..) Tomorrow I will go to the clinic and be able to help others far more easily than I can help myself. The birthday slump will pass and I will be my regular old asshole self. I will however try to figure out why my aerola are fading...do they make nipple make-up? Does this happen to everyone? Do I need to get them tatooed? And why do I care - no one sees them anyway.
