This
particular birthday is a rather bothersome one because of the number
that keeps coming up when I subtract the year of my birth from this
year. Somehow I feel certain I must be doing it wrong because the number
is ridiculously high. I mean, it just can not be that I have survived that many years.
Of
course, this is an annual moment of celebration which increasingly has
the shading of a moment of despair. In an effort to avoid admitting the
truth to myself I stopped having “birthdays” quite some time ago.
Instead I used to say it was the “X” anniversary of my 27th birthday. I
stopped doing that when even those numbers became a little depressing. -For those of you dying to know, this is the 37th anniversary of my 27th birthday –you do the math if you must.
Birthdays are usually a kind of fun time. Everyone slaps you on the back and smiles and says “Happy Birthday”.
You get cards and congratulations in the mail and via email, all
generally meant to convey best wishes and confirm friendships –and they
mostly do just that.
But birthdays are also a time when we take stock of our age, which makes us face our aging. In my case I truthfully do not think of myself as a “senior citizen”, or even as particularly old for that matter. I stopped aging mentally sometime in my 30’s and still think and feel as I did then. Some of my friends would be quick to say that I stopped maturing long before that –and they may be right.
But birthdays are also a time when we take stock of our age, which makes us face our aging. In my case I truthfully do not think of myself as a “senior citizen”, or even as particularly old for that matter. I stopped aging mentally sometime in my 30’s and still think and feel as I did then. Some of my friends would be quick to say that I stopped maturing long before that –and they may be right.
Although
I now spend more time with various doctors in a month then I did the
entire first 40 years of my life, and I take more pills a day then my
mother could get into me while I was growing up, somehow I just don’t
feel the way I expect older people to feel. I think what it boils down
to is that I refuse to surrender to the per-conceived concepts our
society puts on aging. I just refuse to think that there is anything I
can’t do now that I could have done 30 years ago (of course it may take longer, not get done as well, and I may pay for it more afterwards).
For
example, I love the ocean and I love swimming. I also go to Hawaii as
often as I can (another of my loves) and I spend a lot of time on the
beach there. I spent
years sitting on those beaches wishing I had learned to surf and wind surf. One day I was
watching a guy wind surfing and I thought, what the hell? Why not?
The next day I got an instructor and many long hours later I found
myself out in the Pacific Ocean looking back at the beach with the wind
driving me along. It was great fun. It was also my 52nd birthday.
Now,
the rest of the story is not pretty. The next day of my “vacation” I
was sun burned and every muscle in my body was screaming for some Ben
Gay….. And I have never even considered doing it again. Now I just sit
on the beach and watch surfers flying by having fun and I say to myself “I could -if I wanted too.”
Well,
all that be as it may, I guess the important thing is to celebrate
beating the odds for a while and to know I feel good enough to keep it
up for a while longer. After all, I always tell people there is
absolutely nothing average or normal about me…. (no cracks here either, please).
Today
I am going to cook my favorite dinner (Porterhouse Steak, Peas and a
Baked Potato), watch a movie and spend a nice quiet evening with my
dog (and some good Whalers Rum).
Now here's a little song I'd like to dedicate to _______
(I'm sure you know someone's name to fill in the blank)
Today's Reflection:
It's my Birthday.
I have a feeling my 'check liver' light is going to come on.
Live Long and Prosper…
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