Of my 62nd birthday I thought I might be a tad less reflective than usual. Oh, who am I kidding? Time for some birthday angst.
As I reflect on 62 summers gone past I must say that, aside from the broken leg of last summer (and even that had some positive moments as I finally let some people take care of me) I don't recall a period of time when I have been happier. Ah, the pleasant joy of owning a home. The puttering (did I neglect to mention I had two Xhose (those fabric lightweight hoses) burst on me Wednesday night necessitating a trip to the Ace Hardware wherein I purchased a heavy vinyl hose and lugged it home under my own limited powers only to have a neighbor offer up a hose (another Xhose) for keeps) in the yard. The vines of tomatoes offering themselves up to the sun and producing a mountain of marinara in return. My roses, my hydrangeas and all the other lovely plant life that makes the house a home. The cats seem to be thriving in the new abode. Simcha, the youngest, under whose ass you could set off a firecracker when he is sleeping and not get a rise out of him. Yankel, the behemoth and gentle giant, who is terrified of thunderstorms and takes shelter in the bathroom. And Gonif, the little guy who stole my heart, the beauty of an Ocicat, whose sensibilities are so tender that he is alert to my levels of distress, which, thankfully, are getting fewer and fewer. All these boys who sleep on the bed with me at night, at least when there is no thunderstorms.
And, as I teeter on the edge of 62 I have mortality issues. Looking back on wasted time and just being wasted. Looking back on sadness. My inability to let go of some past issues and move on. Why the hell was I so immobile that I could not move out of a home with a partner even after finding out how unfaithful they could be? Why I couldn't let go of mother issues long after she passed. Even now I hear her voice admonishing me for not calling more often (it's a collect call to wherever). My parents were so young when they had me. When I was 21 and about to graduate from college my dad was 44 and mom was 41. I recall now what a jerk I was at that age and finally cut them some emotional slack.
I recall a summer road trip to Florida (doesn't everybody go there in the summer?). We drove down in a Plymouth which my dad had outfitted with seat belts shortly before we left on the trip. I was 7. I had discovered the night before we left that I could "hear" myself think...As in "I think, therefore I am"...I spent much of the trip in my head enjoying the process of consciousness and an internal dialogue. I spent the rest of the trip wondering, as we weaved through mountain roads in Kentucky, that we were going to fall off the edge of the world. These thoughts I only shared with myself. Now, looking ahead, it is like that road in Kentucky: overlooking an abyss and hoping I don't fall off the edge of the world. At least not right now...another moment please. On that trip my dad bought me a live starfish which was in a plastic bag full of water. It disintegrated right before my eyes as we drove back. What else was it to do without food and more creature comforts. And my father full of whimsy, thinking what great sport it was to mess with my head when we were touring Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. Me, worried at 7 that the ceiling was going to come crashing down upon my head and dad's booming voice trying to make it so. Way to mess with a young one's mind...especially as she had discovered consciousness. Conscience would come later.
So now I have looked back and now I must look forward as that is the only way ahead. But they say the past is merely prologue. And that I believe to be true. I must process some ultimate truths in my head, like I do, like I do. Ii still am having that internal dialogue which I produce on these pages as if someone might be interested in what I have to say. What I really should do is forgive myself for the past and move on. For all those intolerable moments that come creeping up on me at night and haunt me so...just let them go. Maybe the lesson I have learned over time is that to be gentle with myself as well as others. Yes the past is prologue and it has gotten me to this point.
As Buzz would say "To infinity and beyond". And what a strange and beautiful trip it will be.
62 has been fine for me, hope it is a great time for you!
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