AND MANY MORE!

It’s My Captor’s birthday, and boy, are my arms tired…

… I’ll spare you the old joke, but hopefully you’ll get the point.

Tired because I manned her phone while she was on her morning walk, fielding phone calls from friends and children – the universal response upon my answering “You’re not who I was looking for!”, which I get a lot.

The experience – and how this day will go – confirms my belief that I’m on to something: Women and men are different.

Some of the differences subtle, some quite loud.

And the birthday differences quite quite loud.

My birthday very low key – which could be a guy thing, I know – where I get calls from the children and a few friends, and we go out for dinner. And maybe a gift or two from My Captor.

An aside: Are men born without curiosity, or does that develop, like that little growth on my lip? I still have a Christmas gift from 2006 that I haven’t yet opened.

But that response matches what I put into other folk’s birthdays: Not much. The occasional phone call, admiring the gift that My Captor purchases for friends – not that I don’t find birthdays to be a joyous occasion, but the joyousness kind of wears thin over time (Insert joke about the ‘alternative’ here).

On the other hand, My Captor has great friends and family because she is a great friend and family member.

Every present she opens today – many of them while she facetimes with the giver – is in return for a present she gave. Every card, every phone call, returns a previous contact.

The cynic might wonder Why Bother, It just cancels out? But not my birthday, so I’ll keep that to myself…

Even though I’m a bit of a birthday cynic, I’m a firm believer in the ‘Call not text’ rule for family members – you might start the proceedings with a text, but voice to voice matters.

And I just listened as a series of phone calls came in, each call cut relatively short so she could answer the next in queue. And while a couple of plants were delivered – and who knows what today’s mail will bring.

Proving the old adage: To have a friend, be a friend.  

But later when we head out for dinner with friends, I’ll notice another man/woman difference: Prep time -I get prepared lots quicker than My Captor.

I’m a practitioner of ‘Dressing for the day’, ready to leave for dinner by 9A. My Captor will head up about an hour before departure time and return looking dramatically better than me, but she’s got a lot more to work with.

I believe she’s had a good birthday thus far: She’s heard from everyone and anyone, and there are flowers all around the house, desserts in the fridge.

Not to minimize how great a friend she is, but even my birthday was more observed this year – coming shortly after Dan’s death – I even got a couple of gifts!

So, part of this is the ‘Dead Son effect’: Danny died 3 months ago today, and people are eager to make our world a brighter place – a more vigorous version of “Just checking in” – which we’re thrilled to accept. And feel.

And it’s helping.   

It’s helping us deal with the battle between happy and sad, which can force an immediate hard left, depending on which memory pops up.

Which was top of mind on Thanksgiving, today and for Christmas – and every day in the future.

Because he’s gone, but hasn’t totally left.

Thankfully.

For 266 more posts like this –each with a wish for more gifts– go to beersatthenifty.com. Your phone will display every post, and you can waste an hour or two.

ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING ‘AGING HIPSTER MUSIC’:

The Tindersticks are a multi-decade British band I’ve recently discovered. Check them out. I’ve saved ‘Falling, the light’ ‘New World’ and ‘Can we start again’ to the BATN playlist.