Seventy-Four Candles

For forty-eight days each year Ruth is a year older than me.  It’s a special time of the year.  It ended yesterday.  We’re back to being the same age until April 11, 2022.

During my dating years, the majority of my female friends were younger than me.  When it came time to get serious, I landed an older woman.  David and Michael married girls years younger, and Elizabeth’s Sutton is a younger man himself.   They all chose to follow their mother’s lead.  It’s probably just a coincidence, but I find it interesting.

In addition to being my birthday, it’s the Memorial Day week-end.  When I was a child, my mom’s family got together for each Memorial Day.  It was always on the 30th of May.   We met at one of the Barner siblings homes to celebrate.  Since my birthday fell during the same time, I benefitted from the gathering.  We had picnic food followed by birthday cake and ice cream.  We didn’t talk about the true meaning of the day, but since my dad, Uncle Harry, Uncle Don, and Uncle Joe had all been in the service, we knew it was an important day of remembrance.  The colors of the day were red, white, and blue.  There were miniature American flags on display as well.

All the cousins came to the celebration.  Several times the extended family gathered.  When the group hit its peak, all the in-laws and outlaws came.   The kids played in the yard, the mom’s fixed the food and shared family news, and after eating, Dad and my uncles played poker.  That’s when my interest in poker began.

In all those years I remember one conversation.   It was May 30, 1960.  One of the outlaw cousins asked if I felt any different being thirteen years old.  I said, “NO”.  I can very confidently say I feel differently today.  Some of my tight things are loose and my loose things are tight.  It’s like my body has betrayed me.

While I wish I was younger, I appreciate still being around.  The importance of birthdays is the ability to have them.  It’s a sign you’re still in the game.  I’m truly grateful for that.