Watch It!

I have always been a people watcher, when I was a child I sat, almost mute, at the holiday table. In fear of being trampled upon by words. It was a raucous table, everyone spoke at the same time. My Father's Mother had many siblings who had spouses along with adult children.
I did not speak. I listened and observed. Besides it was the fifties, I spoke when spoken to.

By listening I learned timing, and wit. By watching I learned expression and the art of reading people. I hate crowds when I am walking among them, but if I am able to sit and scrutinize, I am in heaven. When I do speak in a group, I try to make my words matter.

It is important for me to be heard. If I feel that I am not seen, not understood I will stop talking.
That is the beginning of the end.

Watch it.

Not Smart Enough

I grew up wanting to be an elementary school teacher. I would set up my stuffed animals and dolls in a line and call on them to answer questions I posed to the group. In High School, while researching schools my mother told me: "You're not smart enough to go to college". I was taught not to question my mother, so I decided to go to art school. My dad had always wanted to go to art school but his parents told him: "Men don't go to art school" and so it went.

In my third year as a Graphic Design major, I wondered if this was really what I wanted. It dawned on me that I was trying to fulfill the dream of my dead father.. Again, my mother stepped in: "But you can't do anything else!"

Now that I'm all grown up, it's very clear that I would have done just as well as my peers did, if not better, in college. Life is funny that way. When you have enough years under your belt to be able to just sit and look back sometimes you realize it all worked out.

Turns out I did get to teach, though not in the conventional way I had imagined. I taught various art classes at a technical school, I taught children at recreation centers, I schooled staff on a computer system and I even got to stand on stage and present that same system to an auditorium of avid participants.

People listened, and learned.

Hear that Mom?

Oh, By the Way...

Today is my half birthday. A natural question one might ask could be: why would a 63 and a half year old women announce or care about a so-called half birthday?

It all began as a child. I was born on December 24th. Which is why my Mother named me Carol. When I became old enough to understand that my special day was nothing like my friends birthdays, I had the brilliant idea to ask my mother if we could celebrate on June 24th, my half birthday. She declined.

At first it was just that my little friends could not attend my birthday parties. I can remember very clearly having the streamers and balloons hung, while standing in my party dress staring out the window as the phone calls filtered in. The falling snow was never a welcome sight, just one more reason to cancel. It wasn't like my mother was foolish enough to plan the party on the 24th, but still anytime around the holidays were just too jam packed with activities. The up side was there was always plenty of birthday cake leftover for days after.

During my teen years I avoided the whole party thing, in fact I began avoiding the entire birthday issue. When it was celebrated by a friend it usually was expressed through a note jotted on a Christmas card that read "Oh, by the way... Happy Birthday" or a gift wrapped with Christmas paper. Did I mention I'm Jewish?

In my twenties, if I had a boyfriend December 24th became more ironic. It often felt like an obligation to celebrate Christmas Eve with my boyfriends family. I was to learn that many families open their Christmas presents on Christmas Eve. So, there I sat while everyone around me joyfully opened gifts on MY Birthday. Occasionally, someone would spill the beans about my secret which only made it worse.

I realize this isn't tragic but take a look at it from my eyes. Imagine you are dating someone for awhile, it's your Birthday so you go out to dinner and maybe he buys you some nice thoughtful gift, or not. When I was growing up, everything was closed on Christmas Eve. Restaurants and movie theaters were not an option, besides Christmas Eve usually trumped birthdays.
So in general that time of year just got to be a bummer.

Once I reached my thirties I decided to do my own celebrating. Not only did I order a small cake from my local bakery, I bought myself a generous gift each year.

Generally speaking, I am not fond of holidays. It feels I am required by society to have fun, spend it with people,and be festive. Maybe my lack of experience in the festivity department has led me to this place of bah humbug.

It wasn't all bad. I remember one time a co-worker prepared a lunchtime surprise party at work, it brought tears to my eyes. Friends over the years have also taken me out for simple dinners or lunches (not around the holidays) in celebration, and I thank them for that. Also I am not totally against celebrations of Birthdays. I surprised my Mother with a big bash when she turned 50.

But today, as I pay tribute to my non-birthday, I sit quietly beside my husband who was born on December 27th.