New Birthday

Birthdays have become cumbersome by a certain age.  I've remained the same age by choice now for several years, and for obvious reasons must now change the claimed age for credibility purposes to another year, by one.  Let's see how long it can carry me. 

My younger sister still looks younger; I don't bother with makeup for a significant number of years now.  I've adopted the Elizabeth Warren with glasses look, with longer hair, and the days are numbered for that as well. 

It was a good birthday this year, for the first time in awhile.  As I didn't really 'have' the birthdays in between, it's pretty much a wash anyway. 

Last night with all the family excitement, us actually being together for a holiday, I again knew what day it was and the overwhelm factor was so strong yet again the evening passed, until today. 

Still recovering, grateful everyone is safe, and scratching the surface of the catching up from what is usually maintained when alone, almost abandoned with family events in progress.   We will all be still recovering for several days from the travel and getting back to life without family together, which in a way seems very much wrong and neither ideal nor optimally functional.  So much more can happen for the better when everyone is together long and often enough.  Staying busy keeps the sadness away.  Productivity is in spurts instead of steady, which would be different otherwise.

Anniversary, Again

He called tonight, the one who was big news sixteen years ago.  A life changing surprise.  He didn't know I had tried to call before; he didn't know how to access the voicemail from a land line.  It wasn't his phone.  His had been taken away for a time.  He should have been here; hearing his voice from his call was the next best thing, and not a short conversation either.  It was quality, among many that simply couldn't be, and too many that have been an inappropriate 'replacement' for not being together.

I took a walk per doctor's orders, as other families and children observed the holiday.  It didn't make me feel any worse; I just wish my son could have seen it. 

I don't remember going so long without working, though I have in the past.  Looking for work is a job of itself, with no compensation for the duration.  It's harder recovering from life-saving surgery; being alive now has a different meaning.  It would have been a slow deterioration otherwise. 

Today I was able to get up onto a chair and change light bulbs in a ceiling fixture, after trying weeks before and not being able to get up on the chair for fear of falling and not being strong enough.  Today I can turn on the light again and not have to use a smaller one in a corner, after several weeks.

Still not feeling strong enough for many things, though eventually more strength will return.  Walking more upright, a little taller, and more stable.  It was the best possible outcome, that came with high risk; the alternative would not have rendered a quality of life to fulfill what had been started.  Preparation was required in advance.  Life before was much about preparation, having no idea what would be on the other side.  As it got closer to the day it was very difficult; only family made it bearable.  Hearing my son's voice was healing of itself, yet still lacking.  I couldn't dwell on it, for him; I simply had to pull through: a metaphor from the past, for the future.  I don't remember if I told him about the anniversary; I think I did, wondering if he remembered, too, without making it a topic of conversation, for a reason connected to why he's not here, now.