Saturday, February 13, 2010
There are good birthdays, bad birthdays, and every kind of mediocre birthday. Lord knows, I've had plenty of all of the above. I've heard the song, made the wish, blown out the candles so many times, or so it seems.
Fifty-seven years ago, the day I was born, it was Chinese New Year's Eve, just like today, though in 1953 it was new year's eve of the year of the Dragon. I was born four hours before a solar eclipse, when the dark moon was at its very darkest, and the lunar nodes aligned exactly with the moon and sun. It was Friday the 13th, too. What a day!
My mother could not have been having the best time; my father was hospitalized with a torn Achilles tendon and therefore not working. Of course he would be treated differently now for the same ailment, but in the '50's, who knows what they did? There was no such thing as sports medicine then. McCarthyism was the toxic political movement of that time, the Tea Party Activists of the 1950's. Both my parents were politically active liberals and suspected Communists, hence it was hard for them to find work. I was their third child, so there were many mouths to feed. I'm guessing my mother was worried that day. Who wouldn't be?
It was a brutal era for childbirth. I'm certain my mother was strapped down, flat on her back, and drugged out of her mind. (One of my many unsubstantiated theories is that the Baby Boomers got into hallucinogens so intensely because all of us were drugged at birth. As adolescents and young adults, we sought the solace of the womb through marijuana and LSD. ... Makes sense to me.)
Dr. Grey, the attending physician, did not resort to yanking me out of my mother with tongs, even though it was a common practice back then. Thank you, Dr. Grey, wherever you are. And thank YOU, Elizabeth, my dear mother, for bringing me into the world. I know it wasn't easy, and I know I was never easy. Thank you, thank you, wherever you are, too!
Ah - but that was then and this is now. Who says the "good old days" were better than now?? I am healthy, hearty, and mostly good humored at age 57. I am not ashamed of my age; quite the contrary, I am impressed I'm still here. I like my silver hair and feel more comfortable in my middle-aged body than I ever did as a hormone-riddled younger person. My personality is better suited to an older body. I have arrived!
Today I will work a little bit, read tarot for customers at my roommate's card/gift shop this afternoon, then have dinner with my roommates tonight. Life is good and I am grateful.
Another year bites the dust. L'chaim, y'all!
Drago, one of the 88 constellations and my Chinese astrological sign.