For over a decade I have not wanted to know about my Birthday. It had nothing to do with the advancing years. No. It was more to do with situations that happened on the date rather than the day.
On my fiftieth birthday I took Jack for a hospital appointment with his Consultant. On arrival we were informed that the Consultant had been called away for an emergency situation and that we were to be seen by a member of the team. Since the appointment was routine, we agreed.
It was the wrong decision. The young Registrar that was assigned to us, was still wet behind the ears and had plenty to learn about dealing with patients. With two sentences he took away all hope for the most positive person that I have ever met.
They were offered in a throwaway fashion equivalent to: Two slices of toast for breakfast would be a waste, you won’t have time to finish the first one! It was the only time I ever put in a complaint about a member of any medical team. Thankfully it was taken seriously.
One year later on that day, I followed the ambulance as Jack was transported for admission to the Hospice for his final seven weeks on this earth.
In the intervening years I have tried to ignore my birthday. Yes there were cards, phone calls, texts and gifts, but I accepted them through a vacant haze.
Elly managed the situation well. Mother’s Day in Ireland often fell in the week of my birthday, so the card covered both and came on the latter. Our gifts to each other seldom arrive on the particular day. A birthday gift might arrive in February or in August; on occasion a large gift will cover birthday, and Christmas and that is how I like it. An hour together or a chat means more to me than any gift.
This year for the first time I actually felt able to look forward and face the day. I might even sing the Beatles number this evening as I sip a glass of wine.
My day was spent opening cards and gifts, talking with loved ones and friends and I have postponed the partying until next week to share with Elly and George.
Two items worth sharing:
A book from a friend with a sense of humour!
Being 64 is not that bad after all! 😉
Roll on next week. The cake is planned and the candles are counted…..
This cake arrived by email before breakfast. Thanks Steph!
Do you think I need to book the Fire Brigade?