CLOSE
Tags Posts tagged with "birthdays"

birthdays

by -
0 184
Pixabay photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief,
Publisher

My last birthday, which we celebrated a couple of weeks ago, has been rough. But I am expecting a turn of fortune for the better, because bad things come in threes, and now I’ve experienced all three. Sharing the miseries generally makes one feel better, so here goes.

The first started off happily enough. 

I had been invited to a wedding reception in Maine. Now any excuse to go to Maine is a wonderful happening, in my mind, and it’s not just for the blueberry jam and the lobster rolls. The state is physically beautiful, with a shoreline that has attracted artists over the centuries. To go there in August is to get away from the heavy heat of summer. It is also no cultural sacrifice since summer stock and art galleries are to be found in many of the small towns and cities. Good museums too.

So we packed up the car and left a day early to have some exploratory time before the party. In our roaming, we met people from all over the country who had come with the same idea about vacationing in the northernmost New England State. When we arrived at our destination, we remembered and ate in a couple of our favorite restaurants and also enjoyed socializing with the 140 wedding guests as well as with others at the hotel over the Bacchanal weekend.

So far, so good, right?

When we returned home, as a result of all that socializing, we found we had brought an unwelcome guest back with us: a tenacious microbe that had taken up residence in our upper respiratory anatomy. Whether bacteria or virus, it has so far withstood two different antibiotic assaults and still troubles us with deep seated coughs. This was alarming because the family was arriving immediately upon our return to celebrate my birthday, and we didn’t want to share the bug. But that was just the first of the three miseries.

The morning of my birthday dawned sunny and warm, so we sat on the wooden back deck and ate breakfast. At one point, I had to blow my nose and stepped away from the table, walking the length of the deck to do so. Turning back, I stepped on one of the narrow boards in exactly the right way to cause it to fall through the deck, along with my left leg. It happened, as they say, like a bolt from the blue, and I fell backwards and screamed. It took two family members to extricate me, and I bear the discoloration and contusions on both sides of my lower leg as it heals. If you should see me around town, that explains my limp and wince as I walk.

Somehow, I was most outraged by the fact that it happened on my birthday. “My” day shouldn’t have started off that way.

The irony of the story is that the carpenter was scheduled to come to repair the deck the Monday after my children were to leave. He had offered to do the job the week before, but I didn’t want repairs to mar the family visit, and besides, I was away in Maine so I had put him off. Whoops, bad timing. A further irony is that I had placed a flowerpot on the bad board to prevent anyone stepping there, but it had been moved just before our return from Maine. Was this an accident fated to happen?

As to the third, I was driving to a dinner date last night when I realized a migraine was about to hit me. It always starts with a visual aura, in which zigzagging lines cross my vision much as, in the early days, a television screen used to break up when there was a disturbance overhead. I don’t get them often, but they are most unpleasant when they are triggered, this time perhaps by the medicines I am taking. 

Three and done, now, I hope. Thanks for letting me vent. 

by -
0 362
METRO photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief,
Publisher

A number of my relatives and friends were born in June, so that means lots of birthdays to celebrate. My dad was born in June, and so was my brother. My granddaughter’s birth, the first child of my middle son and daughter-in-law, lit up the month of June for me. She was the first girl in a long familial string of boys. Then there is my West Coast cousin and several friends who all made their appearance on Earth in the same month.

I’m not good at buying presents or mailing cards, but I do try my best to remember the dates and to extend happy wishes. I adore celebrations and the digital age has helped in that regard. I send texts and emails, and if I don’t think it will cause too much grief hearing my atonal voice, I call the person and sing a heartfelt “Happy Birthday.” 

I learned of the entitlement of birthdays when I started elementary school. Feeling left out, I watched as classmates offered cupcakes and blew out candles that their mothers brought to class, while I rued the fact that I was a summer baby: no classmates, no groups  to sing to me.

Little did I know then that my dad’s family never celebrated his or his siblings’ birthdays. Perhaps it had something to do with there being nine children and that they were dirt poor.

My unfortunate mother never knew when she was born. Her mother, who could have told her, died when she was an infant, and I guess no one else really cared. All she knew was that it was sometime during harvest season. 

Well, I changed all that.

I came home from school one day, I guess about second grade, and professed outrage at never having a birthday party. My parents, innocently trying to eat dinner, seemed at first puzzled, then embarrassed at the oversight. They asked me what a party would entail, and I explained about the cake, the candles, the guests and the presents. And when it was time for my birthday, they made amends, that year and every subsequent year until I was married.

I appreciated their response, even going so far as to assign my mother a birthday in the midst of October, which I assumed was harvest time, and which we then celebrated annually—I believe to my mother’s delight.

Did you know that birthdays are a fairly recent consideration?

According to “The Atlantic,” only in the middle of the 19th century did some middle-class Americans celebrate birthdays, and not until the early 20th century, when my parents were born, did birthday celebrations start to be a nationwide tradition. The magazine ties together birthday observances with the beginning of the Industrial Revolution, during which the matter of time became more of a focus generally due to factory and labor hours.

The song, “Happy Birthday to You,” the most popular song in the English language according to the Guinness World Records, is only somewhat older than its 100th birthday.

Supposedly two American sisters, Patty and Mildred J. Hill, composed the melody in 1893, but that’s disputed.

As the 20th century unfolded, birthdays became a time to honor ordinary individuals, usually with cakes and candles, but in some circles, with fruit. It has also become a reason for families and friends to gather, both to appreciate one of its members and to reunite, however briefly. Birthdays ending in 0’s and 5’s are particularly special.

Today, birthdays are often regarded by those experiencing them as a time for evaluating their lives. Have they met their goals? How are they doing compared to their contemporaries? Do they look their age? Are they living the lives they desire? 

It’s a day to be pampered by one’s friends and loved ones and to pamper one’s self. Some people go on trips. Others buy themselves presents that perhaps they have always wanted. 

And some, at the end of their day, breath a sigh of relief, knowing that they don’t have to face another birthday for a whole year.

by -
0 232
METRO photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief

A dear friend of mine just celebrated her 65th birthday this week, and she regards it as a significant number. “How did I get here so fast?” she asks. She also recognizes that she is getting older. That might even be a little scary.

Yes, she is now covered by Medicare. This is both an asset and a shock. When she looks at her new Medicare card, she wonders how this could be. Is she really now eligible for Medicare? Her grandmother was on Medicare, surely not her. But there is her name; the reality is undeniable.

“Well,” she silently acknowledges, “it’s good to have that coverage.” But the sight still stings a bit.

Part of her response is the awareness that she is aging, that she has entered the first phase of the three-part delineation of older age. There is the young-older, from 65-75; then the middle-older, from 75-85; and the third segment, 85-95. Whoever decides and names these demographic groupings seems to have been unable to imagine any group beyond that point. Maybe it should be called “The Beyond Expectations Group.”

With her new realization comes a vow to concentrate on her health and to make the ensuing years hardy ones. She has vowed to pay more attention to her diet, to make better choices concerning what she eats. More fruits and veggies are in store. But no amount of blueberries and kale can eliminate aging. She has now followed through with her long-held intention to work with a trainer. And she is getting a new mattress to help her sleep better.

My friend is doing something helpful for herself. She is turning concerns of aging and the rapid passing of time into better health actions so as to control how she wants to age. Life for her will no longer be just on automatic pilot.

Although there are more older people in America than ever before, aging is fearful for 87% of the population, according to a survey of those turning 65 conducted by Pfizer. It’s called FOGO — fear of getting old.

Why are people afraid of getting old?

There are a number of reasons. Aging can diminish employment prospects. It is a given that older employees earn more than younger newcomers, and while it is illegal to discriminate by age, we all know that such bias exists. It is no wonder, then, that plastic surgeons do face-lifts to combat wrinkles and laugh lines, adjust sagging necks and erase any other evidence of aging. And it is not only women who undergo such procedures. Many men feel the need to blunt evidence of having lived into and past middle age.

People fear losses: of physical ability, of their good looks, of sufficient finances, of memory, of loved ones and consequently of being lonely, and even of their health shortly to be burdened with chronic diseases. Underlying all this is the fear of losing independence.

Interestingly, only 10% in the survey said they were afraid of dying.

Other cultures respect and may even venerate older members of society. Aging can bring people an enhanced sense of gratitude, a calmer demeanor, an awareness of what is truly important, greater ability to resolve conflicts and even an inclination toward forgiveness. Elders are assumed to have accumulated some wisdom just from more years of living and are respected for that.

Of one thing, my friend is sure. When we consider milestones, it seems like the time between them is little more than the blink of an eye. She clearly remembers the details of her Sweet 16 party, the fun of turning 21, her graduation from law school and now suddenly, to be in the Final Frontier is one swift stroke of time after the other. Blink and you are 65. And along comes the recognition that the future is no longer assured.

My friend does not want to go quietly into older age.

by -
0 1153
METRO photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief

Three men in my life, whom I would normally be hugging a lot this third week in July, are missing. Their birthdays line up nicely for a wonderful celebratory period. First comes my youngest grandson, then four days later my oldest son, and then two days after that, my youngest son. This has provided my family an annual occasion to get together with multiple cakes and dinners, noise and fun activities, usually at my home. But in this Year of the Pandemic, it’s not going to happen in yet another instance of how our lives have changed.

The sad news is that we miss each other’s physical presence. The good news is that we live in a digital age. It could be worse. Not only could we not hug each other, we could not even see each other over the many miles of separation. But thanks to Zoom and the other video platforms, there we are, at least in two dimension and we can talk back and forth with only a tiny lag between voice and picture.

Tuesday night my family did even more than that. When my oldest son was asked by his two boys a couple of weeks ago what he wanted for his birthday, he asked for something that they would make rather than buy. They met his request grandly. They pooled their particular talents, along with those of their friends, and created a four-minute full color animated video in which they mentioned many details of their father’s life set to original hip-hop music. It was a highly personal Happy Birthday card, sent through the ether and bathed in love.

For example, the video mentioned their father’s love of sailing — and in the same frame, of fruit. They slyly referred to his disposal of an unwanted shot of beer in the nearest flower pot. They alluded to his passion for tennis — and for peanuts, which he has been known to carry in his pocket on the drive into work. They generously included those who love him the most in the film, and they ended with half a dozen corny jokes that made us all howl.

Needless to say, in joyfully fulfilling their father’s wish, they brought us all together with the requisite laughter and hijinks. My grandsons and their friends, like so many of the young people today, are not working at their day jobs or are working remotely. In a way, this strange new existence made such a present possible because, coupled with the internet, they had the time and resources for such a creative gift. They were able to adapt to our altered existence and flip the messages that typically would have been sent in birthday cards presented at the party to Tuesday night’s video-sharing.

It makes me realize how quickly so many of us have harnessed our new lives. Many meetings and events are now held, in revamped fashion, on the internet. Education, only recently thought of as unusual if taught over the internet, now looks like it has found a home there. Doctors’ visits, requiring an appointment in a professional office, are now being conducted via telemedicine. Shopping, which has been ever creeping onto the internet, has now in just a couple of months become a way of life there — and not just for a book or a patio umbrella but even for food that is routinely delivered.

Will this exclusively two dimensional existence come to an end? Sure it will, perhaps sooner, perhaps later. The virus has been the driver, and whenever humans have figured out how to overcome the contagion, COVID-19 will just be another disease in the annals of medicine. But as far as the internet goes, you can’t put the cork back into the bottle. We will work more remotely, meet more remotely, be entertained more remotely and otherwise permanently embrace convenient exchanges that can be performed digitally.

One thing is for certain, however. Nothing will ever take the place of a hug.

TBR News Media is your local news and entertainment website.
We provide you with the latest breaking news and information for your community.
Contact us: [email protected]

Most Viewed

©