Bodacious Boomer

I love my husband Doug very much. That’s a really good thing, because if I didn’t I’d probably have whacked him in the head with a skillet by now today. We were scheduled to work an event Friday night thru Sunday.  It was cancelled. That put a huge crimp in our finances. Therefore, I wasn’t expecting a dozen long stem roses, a champagne dinner and a diamond ring today. (Not that I ever do). But what I did expect was a “Good morning. Happy Birthday. I love you.”  It’s almost 4pm, still waiting. No card, no note, no nothing. Since Doug was raised by an emotionally constipated mother, pronouncements of love are few and far between.

Now, having been with this man for so long I know how he thinks. If he can’t get something really nice for me, he’ll just skip it. Entirely. We’ve been over this before. I understand. I really do. Being self-employed our finances go up and down like an EKG. Doug’s still waiting on a sizable sum from all the work in Dallas. The little events here keep us going between infusions of cash from there. But the events this week got cancelled. So here we are.

He has done this exact thing before. I told him then I’d be OK with a hand-made card or a even note, but nothing? Not OK. Breakfast in bed or a massage (one that he didn’t turn into sex) costs nothing. Just what is the deal? Now, I shouldn’t have said he did absolutely nothing. Noonish today he did mention that he’d clean the whole house for me if I could just give him some “incentive”. That’s what I mean about being married to a crackhead. Is he on crack? For only a crackhead would think suggesting that to me at that moment would be a good thing.

So, I’ve been upset most of the day- in stretches. Both Evelyn and Amanda called to wish me a Happy Birthday. When they called I cried for just a bit. And I wasn’t crying because I was sad. I was crying because I was PO’d. I’m better now. I know it’s silly to make such a big thing out of a birthday when you’re so old that if they lit all the candles on your cake the fire department would be called. By tomorrow I’ll be back to normal again, whatever that is for me. I plan on going out then and buying myself a cake. Is Doug the only guy that has a learning disability when it comes to his wife?

BTW-In the interest of full disclosure I must say that Doug doesn’t do crack or any other drugs, never has.

Fifty-eight years ago at this exact moment I was getting squeezed- big time. I was about an hour away from being born. Unlike some people, I don’t remember being born. For the most part, I don’t really remember much before the age of five. Over the years I’ve seen lots of photos of myself when I was just a tot. But I can’t honestly say that I have a lot of memories attached to them- sitting with Santa when I was 2, etc.

My first memory is of me sitting on the porch on my trike and my mom screaming at me not to move. I’m guessing I was 3-4. There was a snake near me. Lela Mae, our once-a-week maid, came out and killed it with a hoe. Isn’t it strange that that memory has stuck in my mind for 58 years now? You’d think I’d have a happy memory instead. I do have happy memories. My young life was not all scary encounters with reptiles.

I remember being rocked by Shess, my grandmother. She wasn’t a big woman, but she had big boobs; and I found out later she never wore a bra- at least not when she was at home. All I remember was that she felt really soft when she would rock me. That may actually pre-date my encounter with Rodney the reptile, I don’t know for sure. A lot of my fondest memories are connected to my grandparents. They didn’t have much- financially, but they had everything I ever needed. Isn’t it funny, I never realized just how little they had when I was growing up? I only wish they hadn’t live 700 miles from me.

I’m so glad my mom was here to be a big part of our kids lives. I think that’s so important. Today, I become the age my mom was when my dad died. (My dad died young-59). That’s a terrifying thought. It’s a cold, gray day here right now. Perhaps I’ll just stay inside make a fire and work on a couple of  Christmas presents. Does everybody get so reflective on their birthday?

BTW- I’m working on the next installment of Unforgettable gifts. Here’s a link to the others, if you need to look back- Unforgettable gifts 1, unforgettable gifts 2, unforgettable gifts 3.