The past few years I have enjoyed my birthday less than usual. It's not the presents -- who wouldn't like a Green Arrow action figure -- or the day, which today included a super soaker war with my brother-in-law, sister and their two kids.
It's not that I look old. I Do have white hair, but I keep it so short you can't really tell. My mom claims that is not a sign of age anyway. She says it is a family trait -- her dad had all white hair by his mid-30s. Claren's puppy-raisers sent me a card and said I still looked like I was in my 20s.
And my body doesn't think I am old. I fell at work last year, and I went to the clinic for a bandage. The doctor there was more interested in my neck because I had done a wrenching number on it. After he conceded that it wasn't broken, he asked how old I was and when I told him, he said I'd probably be sore because the muscles at my age don't bounce back. I wasn't sore, though.
No, the problem is I am finally learning to have fun in life, but I feel like I am on a deadline or two. These are the deadlines I worry about: dying ...
- because of FA directly, like heart problems. This seems unlikely as I have avoided these problems so far, but who knows?
- because of FA indirectly, like a fall doing me in.
- because the environment has not been set up for people like me.
It just took me so long to learn how to relate to people.
Someone actually remembered my birthday at work. I have gone to a birthday not of a family member.
I don't know whether it is Claren, some stage of grief like acceptance or what but things are finally looking like they might eventually be OK, even though I have FA. And I want them to be.
5 comments:
And my birthday wish for you is that this feeling of ok-ness continues and grows.
B
I second Barry's emotion and offer that plateaus also are OK. mtc
No time to plateau! Claren the wonder dog will see to it, I hope.
Imagine: Barry, Mary and I all in agreement!
Love,
JTG
I don't believe it.
Post a Comment