Birthday reflections

My mother is in complete denial but nevertheless, I am 46 years old today. It doesn't feel a bit different than yesterday or even last year but for some cruel reason, our society makes us keep track of our time on earth.

I once worked with a guy from Iran. He honestly didn't know how old he was and just had to guess his age and pick a day for his birthday for his US paperwork. Let me tell you-- you have not lived until you have worked with an Iranian practical joker...... that took years off my life.
We worked in a lab. I'll let your imagination take it from there.....

At the other end of the spectrum, I have been to some really old cemetaries where the tombstones were etched with the exact number of years, months, weeks and days the person had been alive. They celebrated and remembered every blessed day..... Don't you just wish you could celebrate and go for the gusto like that everyday? I just can't seem to gather up enough energy to maintain that kind of gusto.....

I can remember lots of birthdays. Honestly, I don't think that I ever had a bad one except for the year that my Dad died and I was depressed for months with grief. A few are a bit more special and memorable to me.



My 5th birthday in particular stands out in my memory. My father was enlisted in the Air Force so we traveled alot during my childhood. His sister, my Aunt Oleta, and her family lived in a tiny town in norther Kansas called Haddam. She ran the cafe there and it was/ is the social network gathering place of that rural area. We were stateside visiting my father's family and ended up in Haddam on my birthday. I think that in its heyday, about a hundred people might have lived there. The only gift that I remember getting that day were coloring books but I vividly remember the party.
That morning, I stood in the kitchen in the back and helped my Aunt Edith decorate the cake. I don't remember a thing about the cake but the joyful comradery of women working in a kitchen seared my soul. Those of you that know me in the real world have heard me laugh. I can assure you that it is a hereditary trait passed on my father's side. All of my father's sisters had been short order cooks and waitress' so they could remember what everybody in the building had ordered and facinated me by flipping eggs in the pan with a twist of their wrist instead of using a spatula. I still can't do that! Oleta, Sue and Edith are all very old women now but even after forty years, I can still remember the laughter and sheer silliness in that cafe kitchen with half the town listening or joining in.
By the time the cake was ready, it was lunch time. Some workman were fixing something that required a ladder in the dining room. Our family ( many of whom were cousins that I had never met before) were seated at a long table when they brought out the cake. The entire cafe' stopped and sang Happy Birthday to me. I remember the workmen standing up on the ladder singing.

Last year, I was able to take my husband for a visit to Haddam. It was his first visit and he had heard Haddam stories since we move to Kansas. The cafe is no longer in that building and the town has certainly dwindled. I still love that little town......

Another cool birthday was my eighteenth. I had a friend who got his pilots licence the day after his drivers licence. He had offered to take me flying many times but my Dad would not EVEN consider it. Now that I am a parent, I understand completely but at the time I thought he was just a spoil sport. So, on the evening of my eighteenth birthday, I fired one of my first shots in the battle for my independence. My friend flew me to Tallahassee. Somewhere over Thomasville, Ga. he opened the door of the plane to better show me the lights of the town and lost the flight map for the area. I remember watching that big square of paper drift slowly downward and it struck me just how high up I was with a guy who had no qualms about opening up the door......

A few years later, I spent the summer working and hanging out with a friend. He and I were both recovering from having our hearts completely shattered. It was a summer of total suffering and angst. We walked miles and spent alot of time on the swings at Len Lastinger School after dark. Both of us were broke college students working the summer at K-Mart to eek out enough money to get through a few more college courses. At the time, I did not think that I would recover from that lost love. I was not particularly looking forward to my birthday.
I got off work at 9:00 pm and managed to get out by 9:30. The sun had just gone down so it was finally cooling off in south Georgia. As I walked out to my car-- a red Plymouth Bobcat ( really it was a PINTO in disguise!) I noticed something on the front. Someone had put a tag on the front that said, " Have You Hugged Your Horse Today?" I went around to open the door and found the biggest bunch of flowers tied into the handle. They were so beautiful....It was just the sweetest thing after a long work day...... It was perhaps the most romantic thing any guy had ever done for me and it just melted my bitterness. That was a turning point for me in healing that broken heart. Steve--- if you are reading this, I still use that as my "romantic measuring stick".

Tonight, the whole McCarter Clan will head off to Elk City for the soft ball game. I'll get to spend the evening working the concession stand with a dear friend. Between serving hot dogs and Frito chili pies, we will cheer like mad women for our team...... not a bad way to spend a birthday!