Some Good, Some Bad
Sat., June 3, 12:18 PM
Before I say anything else, THANK YOU to everyone who sent me birthday wishes. I’m grateful that you remembered. I tried to thank everyone individually, but I do get interrupted. Regularly. Ya never know. My friend Gloria put two cards into the envelope – bit of upcheer – and I realized that she is perhaps the only person who still sends me snail mail birthday cards. Almost all of my friends are on line now, and the others who used to remember are all gone. It’s a perfect example of “one door closes, and another opens.”
It rained, of course. After all these years, I would feel that G-d had forgotten me if a few drops didn’t fall on my day. I could have lived without that much downpour. It rained that heavily thirty-eight years ago, the year we got engaged. I’m sure it’s symbolic, but I’m afraid to figure out what it means.
“Music of Your Life” regularly sends an automated greeting, rather nice since “National Family Opinion,” which has known me a lot longer, has discontinued the practice. But the best one came from Ray Andrewsen of WQUN, who didn’t even know it was my birthday. I listen to his morning show every day, and when Ray makes a remark that reminds me of something I wrote, I send him the link. He thinks I should have a syndicated column. Of course, he didn’t know my mother, who would say something like “they don’t know you like I do.”
My kids don’t forget my birthday, even if I don’t get to see them, but Husband either forgot or ignored it. (A possibility either way.) A few days ago he asked me when Father’s Day is. I replied that there are a few holidays that come before that. “Like what?” I didn’t point out that he had ignored Mother’s Day. After all, I am not his mother, even though I may have that responsibility.
Yesterday he asked about Father’s Day again. He knows what he wants, and “I’ll pay for it myself.” He doesn’t get it; that is, he is not going to get it. We discussed it before, and I told him I’m not going to change the shower connection. I explained it: “there is no sense in trying to improve the shower for you if you won’t shower more often.” I am weary of living with “eau de codger,” overlaid with a heavy application of cheap aftershave. Undoubtedly, I will continue to be tired; it’s just one more thing that isn’t going to change. This time I pointed out that he could have done something for Mother’s Day. We’re not even talking birthday. Why bother?
When people ask me what I want, I usually can’t think of anything tangible. I bought myself a lamp with a high-powered magnifying glass. Anything else important concerns issues like health – others’ as well as my own – and getting out of the mess. More and more, I’m uneasy about acquiring anything that could be perceived as permanent. I want to discard, not collect.
On the whole, however, things are good, in comparison to what they might be. Wishing for what cannot be is a waste of time and energy. I may have reached two thirds of the “Number of the Beast,” but I’ve been that ever since the kids first got pagers. How else would you code in “M-O-M”?
