Irish Times
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Health Supplement 28 March 2006
It’s my birthday
The
Bigger Picture
Carmel Wynne
Have you
ever noticed how often people say, ‘I know it sounds stupid’ before
telling you something that is really important for them? The older I get
the more conscious I become about how important it is to be respectful of
how I feel about anything.
My birthday is next Sunday and as I say goodbye to my fifties this week
I’m in a reflective mood. If I had any say in birth months I would try to
avoid bringing babies into this world in December and in mid-July.
There are certain childhood deprivations that stay with us. They’re not
important in the great overall scheme of things but for the person
concerned they have a long term impact that can affect the person for
life.
In our society there is a perception that children born too close to
Christmas lose out on the birthday booty. At one time when money was
scarce this may have been true. But now with the Celtic Tiger it’s
probably an advantage. There’s nothing like a little bit of sympathy to
get people to dig deep into their pockets and give generously.
I was born on the 16th July and the childhood deprivations of
my mid-summer birthday were of no importance to anyone but me. As a child
I was the only girl in my class who never got off homework for her
birthday because it was in the school holidays.
Back in those dim and distant years children didn’t get their holidays
until the second week in July. Getting off homework was a BIG treat. I’m
astonished that I even remember this yet I don’t believe it is stupid.
Isn’t it strange that you can have forgotten about something for decades.
Then some little incident occurs and in memory you are back in those
childhood feelings. The disappointment is as real and painful as when it
originally occurred..
My coming birthday triggered forgotten memories. Those buried feelings
emerged in all their immature glory when I thought about how I want to
celebrate my birthday and realised that on the day I will be out of the
country.
An event that may seem trivial to someone who has not had your experience
can be hugely significant to the person involved. I don’t know how it is
for you but inside me there are different parts that think different
thoughts about the same event.
There is the adult part of me that is sensible about my coming birthday.
Having a big party on the day is out of the question. There is also the
vulnerable little girl part who is filled with disappointment, triggered
back into the childhood feelings of missing a treat that other birthday
celebrators enjoy.
Whenever we have an emotional response triggered by a memory the feelings
are real. The experience of joy or grief is as pleasant or painful as if
the event were happening in reality. The brain cannot differentiate
between fantasy and reality
One of the great life lessons is how simple life really is when we drop
our fantasies. Our feeling emotional response is real. To believe we are
stupid for thinking or feeling as we do is like apologising for being who
we are.
One of the lovely things about getting older is that I have learned to
accept myself for who I am. I practice ‘enlightened self-interest’ – that
is another way of saying healthy selfishness.
My wonderful daughters organised a ‘non-birthday’ celebrations for me
yesterday. Sensitive to how I might feel about my age they were careful
to make sure that none of the table decoration had a number. I don’t care
if it sound stupid but I felt like a little girl when I say the huge girly
pink ‘Birthday Girl’ disc that reserved my place.
I loved the decorated table. It felt like the disappointment of all the
missed childhood birthday treats melted away and for one moment I felt
like a ten year old birthday girl with the biggest badge going to have a
party.
My non-birthday was magic. I enjoyed every minute of the evening. I
unashamedly brought home the two helium filled Pooh Bear balloons with
‘Happy birthday from us all’, a gaudy sign that opened out like those
old-fashioned pleated paper Christmas bell decorations and put them in my
bedroom.
You wouldn’t belief the delight I experience every morning when I wake up
and realise that I have more wonderful days of anticipating my real
birthday. Even if this seems stupid it’s important to me. I delight in
the simple pleasures that make me happy. Perhaps that’s the wisdom that
comes with age.
The End.
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