where the writers are
Marking the Occasion
juggling woman.jpg

Call me a sentimentalist, a romantic, or just another weary person looking for a sign, but when it comes to birthdays, anniversaries, or days to remember I’m the last one to throw in the towel and pretend it is just another day in a long string of days that are inconsequential and quite frankly unremarkable.  I have friends that stop celebrating birthdays once they’ve reached a certain landmark, as if ignoring the day will stall the passage of time.  Others forget anniversaries or fail to acknowledge them so they don’t have to admit that the warm, fuzzy glow they felt decades prior is gone.  Perhaps with a little more effort there would emerge a spark.  And still others whom have lost loved ones, avoid the dreaded DOD (date of death) in order not to relive the pain and loss, and to avoid being washed away by familiar waves of grief.  For me, those dates become my own personal “dot-to-dot” mystery, linking one event to another, connecting one person to another, and in the end a picture emerges that wasn’t decipherable before.  By connecting the dots, I avoid the mundane sameness of every other day, and I remind myself that something special or someone extraordinary should be remembered on this particular day.

Not all dates are happy dates.  But to me that makes no difference.  It is as important to mourn and remember the pain as it is to celebrate a life or a love or an event. By acknowledging the loss, the regret, the uncertainty, you make it real and you give yourself a foundation to stand on.  And when I wake up as I did today with no particular reason to want to get out of bed and face what promised to be a gray, mundane day I yearn for the distraction, I crave the motivation to have something to celebrate or to have someone to remember.  With a little nudge, thanks to my insatiable curiosity that is still intact, I peeked from under the covers and reached for the marvel of the mobile smart phone.  I knew this day had to have something to offer me and indeed it did.

June 13th is not just another day.  As a woman, who is constantly multi-tasking between career, family, and friends, I found great comfort in finding out that today is International Juggling Day. Bring on the plates, bowling pins, knives and rubber balls.  It is also Kitchen Klutzes of America Day, something made just for people like me who panic when the simplest procedure goes sideways and the birthday cake comes out a pancake.  I don’t think I could have got through today without the newly found knowledge that we were celebrating Lobster Day.  I take great comfort in the fact that even though I can still feel the sting of the pinch, I can also still savor the taste of its sweet meat melting in my mouth.  It is also the birthday of the great Irish poet W.B. Yeats who could write of the love for a woman, even as she grew old or pen a heartfelt elegy hoping that men improve with age. Any birthday of a poet old or young should be celebrated. If we were in Lisbon, Portugal, we would have a municipal holiday today honoring St. Anthony of Padua with a series of parades, celebrations and end with a mass wedding for eager lovers ready to tie the knot.  And if secular celebrations are more to your liking, everyone can celebrate “Weed Your Garden” day, because if your garden is anything like mine, it has fertile ground for those wily and unwelcome pests.

Even with all that, there is always tomorrow, June 14th which is my all time favorite, because of course, and I’m sure everyone has marked their calendar, it is “Pop Goes the Weasel” Day.  And if that doesn’t get you out of bed, perhaps National Pig Calling Day will.

© Kelly Tweeddale 2012

Comments
2 Comment count
Comment Bubble Tip

Word Up

I have passed this on to My Beloved Sandra, marking her birthday on 6/13.

Thanks.

Comment Bubble Tip

Kelly, Love the obscure

Kelly,

Love the obscure celebrations! I decided to sing Pop Goes the Weasel to the cat (because all of my human contacts ran away!)

Thanks for the smile.

Annette