7 Jul 2018
I have had enough of some things. There are, however, some things I can never have enough. Apple fritters and coffee are things I can never have enough of. I would never use the word “enough” with these words.
Some things are in this category of “I’ve Had Enough.”
Recently, the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage said, “Your birthday is coming up. What do you want to do for your birthday?”
I looked at her like I have never looked at her before and said, “Enough, I’ve had enough of birthdays I don’t want another birthday.”
She looked at me, laughed like usual and said, “Silly boy, everybody has a birthday.”
In a way, I guess she is right, but I have had enough birthdays and I do not want another birthday.
I think birthday celebrations are rather silly when you get to be a certain age. Sure, when you are young and full of energy, you looked forward to birthday celebrations. You looked forward to all the birthday presents you are going to be getting. Nothing is more exciting than celebrating your birthday.
That certainly is one stage of life. However, that stagecoach has left the ranch. I have had enough birthdays.
One of the aggravating things about a birthday is that you have to disclose your age. You know when you say, for example, “I’m 60,” people will always respond by saying, “You don’t look 60.”
Everybody knows that is the code for saying, “You sure do look old.”
Or, somebody will say, “60 is the new 40.” I have no idea what that means, but I certainly do not want to live 40 again.
Mind you, I have nothing against birthday cakes and such. I have had enough birthday cakes throughout my life that I probably do not need anymore. If only I could get a birthday cake without all of the hullabaloo and the singing, “Happy birthday to you…”
But there is a main concern I have about my birthday. I have given this some rather deep thought and I have come to my ultimate conclusion.
That conclusion is, I really do not know when my birthday is.
That may sound silly, but I have good reasons to question the actual birth date. Unfortunately, I cannot remember anything about that day. I do have a vague memory of being hung upside down by my feet and somebody slapping my backside. That is all I remember.
I do not know the actual date and year.
My wife one time said to me, “Well, your parents told you what your birthday was. You should trust them.”
And that is the problem. It is a problem of trust. In the beginning years of my life, whenever it started, my parents had the habit of lying to me.
For instance. It took me years to discover that they had been lying to me about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. For many years, they assured me there was a real Santa Claus and a real Easter Bunny. Can you imagine the heartache I experienced when I discovered that they were not being truthful to me?
If they were not truthful to me about Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, how can I be sure they were truthful to me about my actual birth date?
Someone once pointed out that I had a birth certificate, but I do not know the validity of that birth certificate. I do not remember being present when that certificate was signed. How do I know it is not fake?
It took me a long time to realize that even the Tooth Fairy was not actually true. When they told me about the Tooth Fairy, I could hardly wait to yank a tooth out of my mouth and put it under my pillow.
Imagine the disappointment I felt when I discovered there was no such thing as a Tooth Fairy.
If I would take the time to investigate, I probably would find a lot more things my parents told me that turned out not to be true. So, when it comes to my birth date, how can I really believe that that is my actual birth date?
What, if I am not as old as my parents say I am?
So, with all the information I have not found, how can I celebrate my birthday again? I think I should just put it aside as I did Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. I should put it in the same category, laugh it off and say, “Ha, ha, ha, none of this is true.”
“What do you mean,” my wife queried, “you’re not going to celebrate your birthday anymore?”
I explained to her that I celebrated enough birthdays, a birthday I’m not quite sure is my actual birthday, so I don’t need to celebrate anymore. Enough is certainly enough.
“What about my birthday?”
I simply looked at her and said, “We sure will be celebrating your birthday at least once a year.” She smiled and I let it at that.
Later that night I thought of some Scripture I had read in the morning. “The Lord our God spake unto us in Horeb, saying, Ye have dwelt long enough in this mount” (Deuteronomy 1:6). God was trying to get Israel to move on.
Like Israel, sometimes we can stay “long enough” at a certain place and then we need to move on.