Birthday

That day has come again. One more life cycle, another turn. When it stops, the good news is that I will not know about it. Time is insidious. How we measure it, the marking on the twine, the sand through the glass, the encircled number on the monthly calendar. I never understood those people who wanted to ignore their birthdays; why not a party, presents, friends? Today, I join them in not wishing to indulge in the celebration and more, in not wishing to remind myself that I have more yesterdays than tomorrows. The rainy grey nor'easter that has blanketed and buffeted Providence all week is allegedly passing through, but it is here in overcast force today. Sophie wished me a happy birthday this morning, the first words from my only daughter's lips. What more can a father ask for, really? All else is silent, alone, even lonely. I will be feeling young again,I usually do, but today is not that day. Today I feel my age, fifty-five, and counting.