Anniversaries have never been something that registered too well with me and as I get older, my own seem even less important, hence my decision to ignore my birthday this year. It took the Sage and me years to remember without checking the day of our wedding anniversary. I’m fine with family birthdays, but that’s about all. Conveniently, Weeza’s children are born 2 days (and 4 years) apart and their wedding anniversary is the day in between, so that’s easy enough, and 5 of us have September birthdays, so it’s just a matter of remembering which is which.
Outside the family – no, not really. A couple of people always send me a birthday card which is a bit embarrassing really, as I haven’t even asked when their birthdays are. I’d forget, so better not to ask in the first place.
A few years ago, I looked up the date when the Sage and I got engaged. I knew the year, the day of the week and the week of the month, so it was quite easy to check it on the internet. But I’ve forgotten again.
I am particularly successful at forgetting sad anniversaries, or I used to be. I blanked for years the day my father died, until I found all the newspaper reports a few months ago, and I haven’t succeeded in forgetting it yet. I remembered three days in January, the 18th, 19th and 24th. One was the day Muldoon was born, one was the day Wilf my stepfather died and the third was the day my father died. I had no intention of checking, but now I know them all, unfortunately. I resolutely don’t think of them on the day, though.
What I do note are personal milestones, such as the day I was 33 1/3 (it was a Leap Year, conveniently). And the day I’d been married half my life, then two thirds. Sorry about the jump between numerals and written numbers. I’m holding on with a surprising sense of significance to the day when I shall be a day older than my father when he died. Though if you asked me if it bothers me, I really can’t say that it does. Or rather, I don’t think it does, but it must do at some level, mustn’t it? Otherwise I wouldn’t be so aware of it.
Anyway, we let off the traditional humungous rocket this evening in memory of Pa, which probably woke all the babies and made all their parents hate us, and have been warming up by the fire since. Nippy out tonight. Dry, but.