Birthday Cards and the Jewelry Box

Today, I have spent some time marking off items on a to-do list.

The list is not that long, but it is full of little bitty nagging ... things that I need to do.

I mean, how silly is it to put "Mail Jane and Gloria's birthday cards" on a to do list?

Well, to answer my own question, if I don't, then Jane will turn, I dunno, 63, and she will not have received a birthday card from me. I send her one every year -- and as long as she can remember who I am, I will send her a card. I like sending cards. :)

Jane: Hare? Ladies don't tell their ages.
Me: Uh? I didn't tell my age -- I told yours. Bwhaha.
Jane: Totally not funny -- and btw, I'm only 62, and do I know you?

I am currently into the habit of making my own cards [I have a "Happy Birthday" stamp and a box of Suicide Bunny cards] since Hallmark and those other makers of cards have lost their sense of humor -- or maybe getting old just ain't that funny.

*rubs arthritic knee*

Jane's birthday is the same day as my oldest friend Gloria's birthday. I have known Gloria since the fall of 1967 when I entered eighth grade.

Yikes.

Eighth grade?

After 43 years of birthday cards, I mean, are there any new jokes?
I'll answer this question too. Nada.

About ten years ago, I told Gloria that it was silly to buy new cards every year. Let's do this for Al Gore. Let's recycle.

So, we now buy about one birthday card a decade -- and mail it back and forth {I send it to her -- she sends it back to me} until the card turns yellow or there is no more room to write a little sentiment... which ever comes first.

The current card reads, " Life's short; enjoy the ride," [Ya think?], and we use the inside left white space to write a ditty like ---

"Uh, has another year passed? Happy Birthday."

"Damn. You're old. Happy Birthday."

"Wait. Didn't I just mail this card? Happy Birthday."

Gloria's birthday is the ninth of May -- mine is the third of July. There is ONE big downside to this....

Guess who has to keep up with the card for, uh, ten months?

You guessed it. Me.

So, I keep the card in my jewelry box.

Why?

Such a silly question...

Well, then I always know where it is.

On the inside lid of my jewelry box is a velvet pocket. Over the years, since I hardly open the box anymore, I have begun to keep sentimental notes [what is that the purpose of that pocket anyway? Should it be for dried roses, kept from all the bouquets given to me by my lovers? Was I supposed to hide Grandma Dunavant's Baroda pearls from the Yankees?] ... and it's also where I keep that recycled birthday card [for ten flippin' months] that I pull out the first week of May to send to Gloria.

Today, when I went to retrieve the card, I found a letter [I had forgotten about] that I had written my aunts in 1966 to thank them for my birthday money.

Little background info:

When I graduated from college in 1976, my Aunt Ava pulled me aside and said, "I have been busting to tell you this for four years."

Me: Tell me what? [I thought she was gonna drop the bomb that my college degree was paid for by Richard Nixon or that I was going straight from my graduation to a fabulous paid for Malibu beach house or that I was an alien baby she found out behind the tobacco shed that she handed to my mother to raise.]

Aunt Ava: I almost died laughing when I heard you were majoring in English.

Me: Really? Why?

Aunt Ava: Because you used to write us letters -- well, that made us think you might be "flicted."

Me: Flicted?

Aunt Ava: You know --- "touched."

Me: Ouch.

I can't remember what else was said after that, but I remember that it hurt my feelings .[You mean, I wasn't always a good writer with a decent command of the language?]

-- until --

I began to bury my family members one by one, and in sorting through their personal papers, I began to find letters I had written when I was young.

They are laugh out loud funny anyway, but considering what I spent my working career trying to change, one "touched starfish" at a time, so to speak, even funnier.

Bwhaha.

So, today, when I was looking for the annual birthday card to send to Gloria -- I came across a letter I had written on July 15 of 1966 -- I had just turned twelve.

Here is a taste of it -- and I did not edit -- at all:

"We have only 8 more days of summer school. You may think I'm glad but I am not. One reason is because I like it. Today, Lois, Kenneth, and I carried Kenneth's bike up to the shopping center to get it fix. We ate lunch up their because we had to wait.
For my birthday I had a hotdog roast. We went over to the park that is, Barry and Bill, Marcie, Stan, Ced, Carol, Dana, and every body in the family inculding one of Margaret's frenids. We had a nice time because we got to wade in the creek. We played some real fun games."

[and]

"Also, tonight Marcie and I pratice folding up each other in a deck chair. That is a lot of fun. Tonight we walk Margaret and Mike up the street. She always takes on a walk up to the school to swing. You may wonder who is Mike well he is Marcie's little brother. Margaret has taken a fancy to him. He is only 1 year old."

"Thank you for the dollar."

That was one dollar from two aunts.

Bwhaha.

And don't you just love that future English teacher's letter? You should read the whole thing.

*twirls*

Pictured above: November 1966 -- my brother Kenneth, in the lovely white knees socks -- me, and my sister Margaret.

Also: Brother Kenneth and I at my college graduation. :)

BTW: I think I understand now while I was a poor speller and an even worse math student --- Marcie and I were folding each other up in deck chairs for fun?

*shrugs*