A Pitiful Day

I had a birthday recently.  They're hard on me.  Getting old.

But they're like any other holiday.

They create in me a wish someone might show up, suddenly, take me out to lunch, or call, anything.

It didn't happen and it depressed me to be alone again.  I knew already I didn't know anyone well enough locally who would call or stop by.   So why did I get depressed over it?  A day like that is just a reminder I guess to me that I'm alone.  Makes me feel bad and inadequate not to have close friends.  It makes me want to move, try somewhere else, where maybe I can make friends.

I guess it doesn't help to read about close families and close friends who do things together on birthdays and other holidays. Or see what other people do with friends, family on special days, online.

I get that way on holidays too.  I'm trying to get over it.  Maybe heavy drinking would help.

I got two great cards, one from Washington State, from the woman who adopted Tiny Tim of 4th street in Albany, years ago. She lived in Huntington Beach then.  I flew down with Tiny Tim.  My brother gave me his miles to do it.  I had a three hour lay over in HB.  I called it my three hour vacation and even saw the beach boardwalk.   We keep in touch and I sure wish she lived closer.  Thank you Kate.  How you remember my birthday is a mystery to me.

And one from Eugene, a supporter who adopted a sweet orange mom cat I got from a Lebanon trailer park.  She'd been moving her kittens relentlessly, nervous, hungry.  When she saw my car, she came straight for it,  and dropped her kittens, one by one, near the front of my car.   She couldn't care for them and knew me, from me getting cats fixed there, and feeding every other cat when I was there.  I took her kittens home in my purse, the only thing I had to contain them.  When Susan said she'd take the mom, I was so relieved the mom too would get a break.  I went and got her.  Thank you Susan, over and over again.

I have birthday traditions.  I give items I have that are still in good shape to charities.  My tradition is I give away at least the number of items to match the decades I've been alive.  I also have a tradition to get rid of the same number of things that are no longer any good to anyone.  In other words, trash a few things.  I dutifully accomplished both things.

I didn't get finished with the third tradition.  I delete all or most of the previous years facebook posts. I did delete some of last years posts.   This tradition is symbolic of beginning anew.

I can't imagine what I was thinking posting so much last year, to virtual strangers, most of whom I've never met or met once or twice, or people who are local but really are not friends in any sane definition of the word. 
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It's embarrassing to me I did that.  What was I thinking?.

I survived the day.   I chatted with Goldie, from the Salem colony, who is out in the garage, in a cage, recuperating from that leg wound.  He has no choice but to listen.

Happy Birthday to me.  A bit late, but at least I'm not as pitiful over it by now.