I knew the webcam would be back when the national park shut-down was reversed, but this is the first day I’ve had a chance to see the view.
Sort of nice to see it on my birthday.
I have some other things to write about, but one thing really caught my attention today. I get kind of sentimental on my birthday. In fact, the rest of this post is going to sound so sentimental that I know some people might just want to stop now and save themselves the disgust. You’ve been warned! Go away now! I am not usually like this, so you can come back later.
I’d like to say I’m mature enough not to care a lot about celebrating my birthday, but frankly, I wasn’t raised that way. My parents made a big deal out of birthdays. I think it was a response to their own childhoods… extreme poverty in my dad’s family and lack of attention on my mom’s side. I think although we certainly were not wealthy, that they tried to make up for that. I was their last child and only girl, and since my mom’s birthday is two days later, we frequently had shared birthday celebrations.
My folks died in the summer of 2002, so for 45 years they sang to me on my birthday, calling on the phone to sing when we weren’t together. I always think of that first on my birthday. Last week I came across a birthday card they had both signed for me, so I put that up front and center on my desk. You know, just for the hell of it.
Now comes the good part. When I was about 3 or 4 years old, my dad worked at Olivet Nazarene College, and for a treat he would walk me over to the bookstore, where Mrs. Corbett worked. Mrs. Corbett must have thought I was pretty cute, because I knew her name and got my first Caldecott award book from her, Prayer For a Child. But I digress.
Daddy used to occasionally buy me some candy at the bookstore. My usual sweet snack was raisins (hate them to this day) so this was really special. It was either Rolos or Chuckles. I think I always liked Rolos best, because they roll, and there are so many in the package, and there is caramel inside. (Chuckles were okay too, except for the black one.) But it’s been many years since my sweet tooth was so strong that I ever craved them, and I can’t remember ever buying them, although maybe I have. But my point is that I ate them as a little kid and don’t eat them as an adult. I’m sure nobody would ever think they were my favorite now.
So first one of my co-workers came in with a birthday greeting and a handful of chocolate for me, and there were Rolos in the mix. Of course I immediately thought of my dad, because nobody else ever gave me Rolos.
Then five minutes later another co-worker came in and brought me an entire roll of Rolos! I almost started crying. It seemed like my dad was sending me a present.
Okay, that’s enough sentimentality. Next time I’ll write about something more pragmatic. Maybe.