December 7 — “A date that will live in infamy…” Ha ha, my Dad would usually say that on my birthday because I was born on Pearl Harbor Day. Of course the ‘date’ was in 1941 not 1971 on my birth date. But I always think of that every time my birthday rolls around. The date, the numbers intrigue me. Do they have any meaning for those born on that day or events on that day? I don’t know…of course numerologists and astrologists would say that there is significance to the numbers, the day/date, and its place on the calendar and in the universe.
Tomorrow is my birthday. Oh joy. Usually I just breeze right by it with just a few thoughts about the date but no celebration. I don’t have any plans to celebrate this year either…just thinking about the day, the date. Thinking about the fact that I am 41 years old. That feels ‘infamous’… sacrilegious even. Firmly in middle age now…it can’t be. Yuck! I don’t believe it!! I don’t want to; I really don’t want to be over 40…I don’t think I feel it mentally(physically I feel about 60-65); but do we really know how we should feel when we are middle-aged? Right now I feel pretty blah.
I should reflect on my years, my struggles, my successes, where I have come from and where I am going. I don’t feel quite up to it this year. Maybe next year…if me (and the world) are still around. Yeah, how many years do I have left? Ugh. Middle age does that to you–makes you ponder your own mortality.
But I won’t. I think I will let this birthday pass on by like the others and continue to pretend I am young(er) and have all the time in the world.
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