I survived my birthday yesterday much better than usual. I’ve taken the airplanes flying into the twin towers badly over the years. Falling bodies, flames, good guys and ladies dying are not the way I like to start the day. The horror of that 9/11 stayed with me and was reborn on every 9/11. This year I was able to watch a program on the towers and the new museum though I couldn’t watch the planes flying through the buildings.
I used to hate my birthday when I was a kid. The first day of school and my birthday coincided every single year no matter what I thought about it. There I was, on a day that should have been filled with good stuff, heading in to another year of failure. With my unknown learning disabilities, I always failed at school.
Now I am getting used to having a birthday a few days late. Late doesn’t matter any more, just having a birthday is all that I care about. Best of all, I can remember it.
Life is Really in the Footnotes: