On Monday the 26th of October I was sixty-four! Anyone of my vintage will remember the Beatles’ song “When I’m sixty-four”: “will you still need me, will you still feed me when I’m sixty-four?”
This morning, Thursday 29th, I skyped my counsellor and, after weeks of telling her about my sorry situation, I told her about my birthday. I was sitting looking at my rows of cards and thinking how loved I was and how happy I felt to have so many people sending me cards. I also told her how people had called in to see me, and phoned me, from Australia (Barnaby, my oldest son), Preston (Henry, my second son). The cable to my phone became dislodged when my third son, Jonathan, phoned me. The next day I rang Oscar and his pregnant wife who are moving house so I understood why they didn’t ring me. I felt oozing with good feeling!
My amanuensis has remarked at this point that it may be something to do with my remarkable self (and we are fuelled by Swiss 72% dark chocolate which was sent to me by one of my friends).
I celebrated my birthday on Sunday, the day before, with Adrian, my husband, when we went to the cinema to see the “live” Royal Shakespeare Company production of Hamlet; I feel that, after sixty-four years, this fine production brought me near to understanding the subtleties!
Mary Smith 29th October 2015