It occurred to me this morning that this year will be a milestone birthday for me. If I live that long, I will be 75 in October. Now I’m not being negative when I say “if I live that long” but rather pragmatic. I have a dicky heart, a bloopy thing in my stomach that doesn’t belong there (‘bloopy’ is the technical term the doctor used), and the possibility of major surgery coming up soon to remove said bloopy thing.
If I’m around to celebrate that milestone birthday most probably I won’t. None of my milestone birthdays have ever been celebrated. Not my 16th, or my 21st or my 50th or my 65th – I think those are the major ones. Some folks would add in the 30th and 40th but I don’t consider them special. Heck, I think I long ago gave up thinking any birthday was special. You kinda get used to the idea that your birthday, and by extension you, are not special.
Tho to be very honest here, on my 21st birthday a woman in the office I was working in got me a cake – the first birthday cake I could remember. So that was nice. No one else acknowledged that milestone, including my parents. Actually my mother called me the day after, and when I reminded her that my birthday had been the day before she replied “Oh, really? I thought it was today” How does your mother forget your birthday, she was there, right?
And on my 40th birthday the bar/restaurant where I hung out allowed a friend to bring in a birthday cake and the bartender even sent out for a really good bottle of champagne (since they didn’t stock anything he deemed worthy – nice man!)
So I’ve had two birthday cakes in my whole life. Tho, again, that’s only within memory. For all I know there was cake when I was 1 or 2 or 3 or 4…I don’t remember.
Why am I thinking about something that won’t happen until October? Don’t know why about that either. It just crossed my mind. It’s not like I don’t have more important things to occupy my mind, I do. Perhaps that’s why I am projecting six months into the future. Or because I’m amazed that I am this old. That despite all my medical issues, I don’t think of myself as old. And 75 is old. I don’t look in the mirror and see old.
I’m not sure what old is anymore. The boundaries have been pushed a bit on that. I’m certainly not wise tho I must admit I have mellowed – quite a bit, quite a bit. A whole lot of anger is gone. I can talk about my early life without anger. Truly. And that is like amazing to me. And it just happened. I didn’t work at it. Poof! Anger gone. Cool. Took a damn long time but still, take whatever good stuff you can find, right?
I titled this post “Witty and wise” – I am neither, this post is neither but who doesn’t love a bit of alliteration?