It's My Birthday Again... dammit.

So it's my birthday. Big Whoop. Just so you know, it's the last one I will be acknowledging.... ever.

Last night I checked my ticket for the HUGE Mega Millions drawing. Really, it's my birthday, ya think fate or destiny would show a little love. NO. That bitch karma showed up again and not the good bitch either

I share this birthday with Keith Richards. While he is somewhat older than me, I hope I wear my age a little better than he does. I also share it with Brad Pitt. He definitely shows his age better than I do mine.

It's been a wild year. They say you can't teach an old dogs new tricks, but let me just say... woof. If this year has taught me anything, it is to just DO IT. Sometimes shit works out, sometimes it doesn't, but trying something is a whole lot more interesting than just thinking about it.

They say the only regrets you really ever have are not for things you did, but rather for things you didn't do. Screw that. Youth may be gone, but being youthful never is. Or being old and acting like an idiot. Whatever. I plan to enjoy every minute, even today when I have to hear everyone in my family call and sing "Happy Birthday," and trust me that ain't pretty. It's a running joke as to which one of us has the worst voice.

So the day has already begun with wishes from  the crazies who are up way too early, and a phone call from the Drum Mama, reminding me for the next three months I'm older than her. Bite me.

In the end, it's all a memory to tuck away, pulling it out when a day goes bad. Just like family and friends, both old and new, certain things you cherish.

And that is one thing you learn with age.

Thanks guys.

A Birthday Memory

Today would have been my father's birthday.

Thursday, it will be six months since we lost him. It seems like he's been gone forever. This past weekend we had a major snowstorm in the Northeast. Blame it on my dad; apparently he still has the power to conjure up a winter storm. It was a running joke within the family that whatever weekend in February we planned to get together to celebrate his birthday, you could count on either a snow storm or ice storm to interfere.

Except last year.

While we would usually get together at my brother and sister-in-laws house for the party, last year we went out for Chinese. Not your local dive, but an upscale restaurant where certain dishes are insanely great and everything is overpriced. A family favorite, though one we don't normally go to as a family. My brother would go there most often, in fact a waiter once thanked him for dining there often enough that he was able to send his son to college. Nice.

Anyway, we all went out for the birthday party last year and if Mother Nature knew it would be his last, she behaved herself. I remember looking at him and thinking this might be his last birthday with us. While he wasn't sick at the time, 87 was a big number and he grew weaker almost in front of your eyes. He had the best time. Sitting between my mother and brother, he tasted everything. He had Peking Duck for the first time and loved it. The wine flowed and the staff brought out their version of an ice cream cake...for my father, it was the gift that kept on giving.

Whether he also felt it would be his last birthday with us, I can't be sure. His eyes filled with tears as he looked over his beloved family with pride, and it did seem like he was taking in the significance of the moment. But then, he always looked at us with pride. While he wasn't the world's most successful man or the most popular, he had a family who adored him.

We still do. Miss you Pops.

Happy Birthday.

It Was Dad's Birthday, But I Got The Present

Yesterday was my Dad's birthday. There's a lot of living in those 87 years and it's showing.  The past several weeks have been hard for him and us.  While his decline has been evident for some time, recently it had been startling. Numbers were always a gauge for me, the man was a whiz at remembering statistics that would have left my brain 5 seconds after I heard them.  Lately though, he was losing facts and figures all too quickly.

A trip to the doctor on Thursday provided him with another new medication.  It's scary to see the amount of pills needed to get through the day.  Luckily my mother can still help with administering them, because I don't think his mind can process the schedules.  One of the new meds seems to be helping.  At yesterday's lunch with the assembled troops, he seemed more alert and able to enjoy himself.  The week before he was filled with worry about every detail leading up to the party.  This morning, he seemed better still. Able to vocalize full sentences, not just two or three words at a time. I am hopeful that the final drop in cognizance is not yet here.

After he blew out the five candles I had put on his cake, we looked at me and said thanks for not making him blow out too many.  And in the eyes, the twinkle was there.  It may not be there for a whole lot longer, but it was there yesterday...and that was his gift to me.

Love you Pops.

For another view of dealing with an aging parent, please read "Watching The Light Fade: The Heartbreak Of The Inevitable."