Monday, September 26, 2011

45 th Birthday Lesson

First surprise came when I worked out my age and realized I was two years younger than I thought.
I believe I always do this and yet I love the joy of getting back those two years.
It's funny how 45 sounds better than 47. Seeming that I now have this secret "by the time I'm 50" phrase going on, my dreams feel attainable again with two more years on the Outlook calender.
In my actual reality, the aged number and the number of years means nothing. I just use it as one of my comfort foods. Like the quick indulge of an Almond Joy, which seems less authentic than a whole Sneakers bar.

Second surprise occurred on the day before my birthday. During that day I laughed so much and so hard that I swear I felt as powerful as Moses facing a swimming pool. Highlight was (probably) one of those, you had to be there moments involving nail polish, wax and feet. It certainly wins my Emmy award for slight deafness and timing.
Which leads me into the birthday lesson - Listening Skills. Featuring listening between the vocal chords.
As I experienced a soap opera sized difference between the day before and my actual birthday, this educational opportunity deserves it's own biblical chapter, such is it's greatness. The third book of Jayne, paragraph 22, verse 48.

Dealing with Alzheimer's you begin to limit your own language in order to share. For example, you know that you need to repeat so often, that the shorter the sentence, the better it is for yourself.
Those of us who do not have a disability need to walk in the shoes of those that do, to understand how much we take for granted and how often we abuse one another.
I see people, myself included, as though we are play acting with Greek masks. The frozen expression does all the work while the noisy sentences are just rude, barking orders. The words are not even required to be heard as their true objective is to silence the issue and thus end it.

We shouldn't need to do that. We shouldn't want to do that.

I'm typing out loud with a wish that we could all just listen a little more.
Perhaps that's what I asked for when I blew my candles out on my very red, sweet birthday cake.
I think I would have, if I had known.

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