Friday, December 30, 2011

Having A December Birthday

Post note - my apologies to Jane. We had a snag and her post was suppose to go life two days ago (her birthday). It was too good to delay another month so you lucky readers get two posts today - mine and hers. Sorry Jane. Big Mike

December is not the greatest month for a birthday. It’s not quite so bad before Christmas Eve or Christmas Day because folks are shopping anyway and picking up something for the birthday person and having a little celebration doesn’t seem quite so much like a after-thought. My oldest son, Jim, has a birthday on December 10, so we made that the day we put up and decorated the tree, thereby making it special for him while he was still at home.

But mine is December 27, two days after Christmas. By now everyone is sort of feeling the Christmas blahs. My mother always made cupcakes for dessert after our main meal and put a candle on mine, plus always a present, so it wasn’t as though I didn’t have a little celebration. But it was an aftermath one and always sort of felt like that. Not that those who knew when my birthday was hadn’t put Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday on my Christmas present--as I suppose those who have birthdays on the 25 must get. Still, they have the satisfaction of knowing they share the 25 with the star of Christmas, which counts for something.

Jim married a gal whose birthday was December 28, so I made a point of always remembering to send her a birthday card and a gift. I still do. Still she and I both agree that the 27 and the 28 are rotten times to have a birthday.

When I was a child my mother always had my “birthday party” in the summer, which was fine with me. For her, too, I realize now because it could be held outdoors where we played games and kept all the mess in the yard for the birds and insects to enjoy finishing off later. So as a child, when it matters most, I didn’t actually miss out on parties.

Actually now that I’m an old bat, I find it really doesn’t make any difference what time of any month my birthday is because I hate to see them roll past, always making me a year older. A year wiser? Hey, guys, that’s a fallacy, if ever there was one.

And so I’ve written a poem for myself called:

Too Old For Birthdays

Every year they come around, no matter what the weather,

Love ‘em, hate ‘em, they don’t care, birthdays come forever.

Yesterday you were a child, and birthday parties were fun

Today you’re an adult, but not ready to be done.

If no one remembers, you feel it’s not fair

Because no matter how you protest, you still do care.

Italians call it domoni, and say tomorrow never will come

But soon time marches on and gets you under its thumb.

Now it’s my tomorrow, so up to the belfry I’ll flit

And write my stories up there, instead of trying to knit.

Old bats have long memories of how hot it used to be

Never think that I’ve forgotten how she plus he equals we.

I know each step on love’s turbulent raceway

Where the truth beats the odds, come what may.

Be you dragon, human, eldritch or fay

Alien, witch, were, demon or gay

Love leads even the devil astray.

So be sure that from my belfry high above

This old bat will always celebrate love.

4 comments:

Julie Eberhart Painter said...

Happy belated birthday. Your mother was wise to celebrate your birthday in the summer. Mine is in the summer, and living in the country, she had to overplan a party and spend gas ration cards -- remember them -- to get people there instead of an in school party where everyone would be together at once.

Julie Eberhart Painter said...

Happy belated birthday. Your mother was wise to celebrate your birthday in the summer. Mine is in the summer, and living in the country, she had to overplan a party and spend gas ration cards -- remember them -- to get people there instead of an in school party where everyone would be together at once.

Allison said...

Also a belated happy Birthday. I hate to point something out, but a Christmas birthday is as bad. You get one present - for both. And Birthday cards get lost in the madness.

My only salvation was a DH who went overboard when he realized the problem. HE got me fabulous gifts, trips to the islands, Hawaii, jewelry, a complete living room redo. Of course not all at once. This was over many years, so I'm not complaining. But before him - forget it!

Rita Bay said...

Happy Birthday! My husband's is the 26th. He gets leftovers or his choice of dinner, but always a fine cake, a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday and gifts. Rita