Another Year

March 22nd, 2024

Wednesday was my birthday. It generally falls on the spring equinox, but this year the changing of seasons came a day early, probably because it’s a leap year and we had an extra day in February. This morning doesn’t feel much like spring. It’s cold outside, and a heavy, wet snow is falling. Winter isn’t quite finished with us yet.

My birthday was uneventful, and I’m okay with that. Last year was a big deal because I qualified for Medicare. Sixty-five is the last birthday where a person wins a prize. This year just seemed a bit odd. I wondered at the fact that I am still in the material world, and I asked myself, “Why?” After all, a number of my contemporaries have gone to the other side. What am I still doing here?

One of the answers is asleep in the next room. Asher, our toddler grandson, is snoozing away. My wife and I care for him fulltime. We are his guardians, and there is nobody else available to watch over the boy. If we weren’t caring for Asher, he would be in the foster care system, and that would be very, very bad. So, I am still here because Asher needs me. At least, that’s how I make sense of the situation.

Other people also need me. My wife, Karin, needs me. To a certain extent, so do our adult children. Just because somebody needs me does not mean I get to live longer. A lot of people die who still have others depending on them. However, being needed give me a reason to keep going. I often think that old folks wither away because they feel superfluous. They are abandoned by the younger generations and see no point in continuing to fight the good fight.

I received a couple gifts on my birthday: a music CD, a book, a card. There was nothing fancy, and there was no need for anything like that. At this point in life, there is very little that I need or even want, at least in a physical sense. I have more than enough stuff. What I want is peace of mind, and that is apparently a scarce commodity.

I asked my youngest son, Stefan, simply to spend some time with me. Time is also a scarce commodity. He’s a busy man, and he has a full and active life. However, he is willing to go to lunch with me this coming weekend. Once again, it doesn’t need to be anything fancy. I just want to sit with him and listen to what he has to say. I don’t need to talk much, unless he has a question for me.

A young woman in our lives has been struggling with health problems. It’s been very hard for her, and also for us. On my birthday, we found out that this young woman had been accepted into a treatment program. My wife and I breathed a bit easier knowing that. The young woman started the program yesterday. I took her there.

Knowing that she is getting the help she needs is the best birthday present I could have possibly received. I am grateful for it.