This is late and I don’t care. I’m posting it anyway.
MY MOTHER used to joke that I was born 3 weeks late and never caught up. Nothing has changed, Mom! I just found this and, oh yeah, realized it was, um, kind of late. Very.
“April 12, 2012
It is a day before the annual event that has me wondering about the worth of my existence, the accounting of my achievements in life, the pondering of poundage that I still have yet to drop from my portly appendages. The day that doesn’t seem to exist singly for only the one point in time that it is supposed to represent.
No, for a few days up-to this day, similar to the way I used to cry and angst-out before my husband’s
impending deployments, I enter a kind of Passageway. Then when the actual Day arrived, I was drained of all the emotional stuff beforehand and was able to accept the departure; to just functioned as needed – no ranting or sobbing, no highs or lows on the Day.
I pass through. I do ‘pass’ –but it’s not pretty.
Does everyone go through this around their birthday? At least, as in truly aging in the sense of DECADES of passing, not as in the joyful exuberance of one’s 11th birthday or the overly-glorified 21st.
It’s been OVER half a CENTURY for me. As of tomorrow, I will be closer to the SIXTH decade than the fifth. Ha, I snap at the fifth now! Old news!
I am full of questions during this Annual Birthday Thing, er, Birthday Passage (which makes it sound more profound and official, the stuff of bestselling non-fiction-self-help books). What am I passing from? Passing into? Away from regrets, or are they piling higher around me? Awareness of more of God’s grace in my life as I fade into old age? Is it more than compounded physical issues, more than the required colorectal cancer screening and increasingly creaky knees?
The awareness of still not having done what I’d hoped to do in life dampens my birthday joy. I feel no closer to doing or being someone ‘important’ in the world than before. Is my book published? No. Have I had a gallery showing of my art or photography work? Heck, no (amendment: I am HAPPY to say that as of the belated date of this posting, I now have an exhibit! See new post!) Have I lost the fifty pounds I need to? …And why do we have to deal with the IRS every year in my birthday month?
Why doesn’t it rotate or something? Spread the joy around! What about September? Or how about including tax season with the Christmas holidays? That should cure some of our American spending-craziness.
But I am rambling, here (as usual). Since I’m keeping a Blog, I’m expected to post something-doing with Creativity. The most I can muster up today is that, for some cosmic reason I’m still not sure of after a half-CENTURY of living – I was born in southern California, late in the afternoon, on a Wednesday (yet hopefully not “full of woe”)
My mother drove herself to the hospital because my dad was working (he make it eventually). They named me after a sign on a bread truck: yay!
So is it worth it—this continued existence thing? Most of us do hang on and keep going. I plan to. Sometimes I wonder why, but for some reason, God has decided to keep me around for the past (another) year. I might be given all of the next year as a gift, or I might not – it is up to Him, not me.
Yes, I am juicing. Has it helped?? Sure. I feel much more smug about being overweight.
Like the Chinese, I’d like to give lots of gifts on my Day. More than little cute-sy bags filled with goodies (if I had the money it would be fun however). How about giving more love to my fellow humans, especially to my family and friends? More acts of simple blessing that need nothing in return. More times to spend together, where I offer the gift of listening—without needing to share my own troubles in return. More care in what I say, in how I say it. More humility and less pride. More encouragement without any ‘buts’ or unwanted advice tagged onto it. More cheerfulness, even when I may not feel so cheery – why trip others up when I’m feeling down and loading that burden onto them?
So basically, my bday wishes: less of the bad parts of me, still wanting improvement in spite of a half-century-plus of living – and more giving of the few good parts there are.”
If you are now a centarian, congrats!! I hope I don’t live quite that long. No offense intended.