A Lack-lustre Birthday
“Do you feel older??”
When I was little, I used to get asked this question on my birthday every single year. It’s as if they expected that one day to be the tipping point. Well no, yesterday I clearly felt 7, but I’m much more wise today so I must be 8 now.
I haven’t posted in a few days because I hurt my back on Monday. That means that my birthday on Tuesday was just painful and unfortunate. I suffered through classes, and then went to work. I was in so much pain that I planned to stay home, but the only thing worse than suffering through work would have been suffering at home, alone, on my first birthday without my family there with me. But I can honestly say that on that day, I did feel older. And not just a day older either… 4 or 5 decades at least.
I think I was supposed to make a big deal about turning 21. That’s what most people do when they hit such a landmark age. Here in Canada, though, I’ve been able to drink since I was 18. I got all of the other cool privileges, like being able to vote, at that age too. At 19 I was able to drink anywhere in Canada, which was also a big deal because I do a lot of military training in different provinces. And at 20, I was excited to be no longer a teen. To me this marked a significant push into the world of adulthood.
Being 21 wasn’t spectacular. I mean, it’s nice to be a 20-something now, instead of just a 20. Still, I feel like everywhere else there’s a huge wait until finally you are 21 and that’s when everything changes. But for me, nothing changed, besides the fact that I’m probably going to be drawing 1’s over 0’s for the next few months when writing my age.
I think that because it was my birthday, I’ve been feeling more homesick than usual. The people here did what they could for me. James bought me a beautiful red rose and a black and white vase to keep it in, and it is absolutely gorgeous. He took me out for a drink after work, and we cuddled and it was nice. As well, his parents did a birthday celebration for me on Sunday, complete with seafood lasagna and chocolate cake.
But as nice as it was, it just isn’t the same as being home. I miss my dad’s linguine and my mom’s chocolate cakes. I miss there being balloons hanging from the ceiling when I wake up in the morning, and birthday cards all across the fireplace. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for what everyone has done for me. Still, a big part of me knows that it will never make up for being with family on a day that is supposed to be so special.