the early hour after midnight on your birthday is always so thrilling, isn't it? guessing who'll be the first one to congratulate, enjoying all the emails, texts and phonecalls you receive. just feeling special.
this is one of the first cards i received on my early hour and i love it.
thank you, stefano! you know you own a cozy little piece of my heart, don't you? how fierce i am about our pure friendship!
so 37 years ago I arrived into this world bruised and exhausted after days of battle with my young mother. she had been told to ignore the contractions, so she suffered in bed near my sleeping father, being careful not to wake him. when he finally woke up, they rushed to the hospital where she had a quiet labour. not even a scream was let out, which was the reason to be satisfied of.
my face was distorted and i was yellow with severe itterus. my mother was speechless at the sight of all my body hair, while it made my father hope that i still was the boy they were been told to expect. my heart beat was athletic, i certainly was their desired first son. they must have accepted it was me, at some point, because my father knocked on my grandmother's door later that night. 'she's here!' he yelled 'it's a girl, but she's my living image!'
my life was all written, from my very first day. great authors are convinced that the incipit is the crucial part of the book. i agree: mine tells it all. i like every minute of my 37 years in this world, but i do feel like the trapeze artist who must let go of one bar before catching the other and for a moment is suspended.
the uncertainty of that moment, where i must leave the old trapeze completely and, for a moment, cross space before being able to grab onto the new one, isn't uncomfortable to me, though. just like i wasn't scared to disturb with my kicks during my mom's labour. it's a transition zone in my life and incredibly rich. despite all the pain, the fear and the feelings of being out of control, these se are still the most vivid, full of growth moments.
it's that 'living image' that frightens me. i truly hope it's just the looks!
so 37 years ago I arrived into this world bruised and exhausted after days of battle with my young mother. she had been told to ignore the contractions, so she suffered in bed near my sleeping father, being careful not to wake him. when he finally woke up, they rushed to the hospital where she had a quiet labour. not even a scream was let out, which was the reason to be satisfied of.
my face was distorted and i was yellow with severe itterus. my mother was speechless at the sight of all my body hair, while it made my father hope that i still was the boy they were been told to expect. my heart beat was athletic, i certainly was their desired first son. they must have accepted it was me, at some point, because my father knocked on my grandmother's door later that night. 'she's here!' he yelled 'it's a girl, but she's my living image!'
my life was all written, from my very first day. great authors are convinced that the incipit is the crucial part of the book. i agree: mine tells it all. i like every minute of my 37 years in this world, but i do feel like the trapeze artist who must let go of one bar before catching the other and for a moment is suspended.
the uncertainty of that moment, where i must leave the old trapeze completely and, for a moment, cross space before being able to grab onto the new one, isn't uncomfortable to me, though. just like i wasn't scared to disturb with my kicks during my mom's labour. it's a transition zone in my life and incredibly rich. despite all the pain, the fear and the feelings of being out of control, these se are still the most vivid, full of growth moments.
it's that 'living image' that frightens me. i truly hope it's just the looks!
U're wonderful!!!
ReplyDeletehave a very happy day...always!!!
and get the biggest piece of the cake!!!
love ya!!!
Happy birthday Elda !
ReplyDeleteActually my attention was caught by the start of your post, because it's soooo different of my own experience! I absolutely never felt thrilled on my birhtdays, even when I was a child...I even tend to forget totally it's my birhtday when I wake up and during the day. It's not an important day for me...but this is not sad, it's just the way it is.
I'm also impressed to see how many details you know about your birth. I know very little of it, and, possibly because family relationships are not very "intimate" in my family, I wouldn't like to ask for more (and if I do, they answer with very general information). So, it's really interesting how the same thing can be so different for different people.
Enjoy your 37th year !
Hélène from Belgium
I love having birthdays, too!! It is a gift... not everybody gets to get older or old. I think it is definitely worth celebrating:))
ReplyDeleteI agree with Lore: U're wonderful!!!
thanks, helene, i think my recent post now answers to your question about why i like celebrating my birthday. anyway it's a thing i got to be consciuos of only since a few years, since the detaching process from my parents started, to be precise. before i was like you, never paying a lot of attention to my birthday, because in my family individuality was denied.
ReplyDeleteat the same time, though, i was told so many details about my birth, yes, but just because i gave birth to my own baby, and so i was curious and wanted to know more about my mom's delivery experience. otherwise, such details are omitted in my family too, like in yours.
thanks sandra!!!