Yet another rotation of the earth around the Sun has occurred, and when I woke up, I remembered that I'm now going to have to remember a new number to put down on health information sheets at the doctors. Yes, it's that time of year again, my birthday.
Even though I went to Mass for the first time in two months today (Happy Pentecost!), and I have to say that I was completely dreading the whole prospect on the way to church. I still would rather have a root canal than go to church, but if I wait until I felt like going back, there is a chance I'd never return, and love it or hate it, Catholicism is a very powerful force in my life, and one that I'd rather have in my life. So, even with dread filling my boots (very unfounded, might I add), I am happier about going back, the fact that it's Pentecost, or the medial branch nerve block that I'm scheduled for this Tuesday than the fact that I am now in my 20's (I've decided since I feel so old, that I'm entitled to just describing my birthday by the decades instead of the actual age).
I have no good reason as to why I'm so resistant... or perhaps don't even really care. No traumatic birthdays, and although I have to share this week with 3 other people (my aunt's is tomorrow, a close family friend is on Tuesday, and my mom's is Wednesday), it was never really ignored. Perhaps not as much attention was put on it as it is for most people (my last party was when I was 7, but my parents and I got to eat at a really fancy restaurant, and I'm introverted enough that it was the preferable option), but I have a certain... unease about it.
Perhaps maybe I have reached a much more concrete knowledge of my death than most of my age peers, or I have always suspected that I might not live a long life (that doesn't bother me so much as the fact that my body prevents me from living what life I might be given), but I guess I have already reached the "maudlin' ol' drunk crying on her birthday" stage. But, I'm not even crying at all. I think that perhaps I really don't care, because I have no strong emotions either way about it. And like I've heard before, the opposite of love isn't hate, it's apathy and indifference. I don't hate the fact that it's my birthday, I just don't care.
I haven't really told too many people this, I suppose because just maybe, the fact that it's my birthday might be important to someone else. I know people who take a great sense of pride from the fact that they know everyones' birthday. And since I don't care, it won't hurt me at all to just smile and say, "Thank You" in response.
I'm getting off on another tangent, but I will just sign off for now with a mental note to post a blog about my difficulties taking complements. For now, listen to the words of the great philosophers, John and Paul.
You say it's your birthday
It's my birthday too--yeah
They say it's your birthday
We're gonna have a good time
I'm glad it's your birthday
Happy birthday to you.
1 comment:
I have to say happy birthday because I can't help myself but I understand the lack of excitement in the old birthday. My husband is very apathetic about it and his birthday is very low key. We do it that way because that's what he wants. So I say do what you want and don't beat yourself up about what other people think you should do.
Glad you got back to mass as I know how much it's been on your mind. Baby steps, just take it as it comes. :)
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