Just before my mother’s 70th birthday we talked on the phone and I said, “Just think Mum, in 5 years I’ll be 50 and you’ll be 75.” She did not respond and I knew then that she knew she would not be here for either momentous occasion. On her 70th birthday I got “the call”. My 46th birthday sucked. It didn’t suck from a lack of festivity because I’m not much on my own hoopla. It sucked because the only other person in the world who was profoundly affected by my arrival on the planet wasn’t here.
She thought I was funny. If she were alive today she’d get a big kick out of hearing me tell well wishers that there is going to be a televised ticker tape parade, this morning at 10, celebrating the longevity of THE SELF. She encouraged me in all my delusions.