The summer of my 12th birthday, Neil Armstrong made his historic moon landing and I remember feeling rather ticked off that it interrupted my viewing the Wizard of Oz. My aunt, an elementary school teacher, owned the only color television I’d ever watched and was excited to finally see Oz transform from black and white to technicolor. But instead of watching a house land on a witch, I was forced to view a rocket land on the moon. I vividly remember the moment when Dorothy’s house was swirling in space and about to land in Oz. Still traumatized with fear of Miss Gulch, I was almost afraid to watch, but in one quick manual turn of the channel my fears would never materialize. My “educator aunt” announced that history was about to be made and my 3 brothers and I were to be a part of it by watching the first man walk on the moon. It would be 3 more year before I viewed those beautiful, ruby red slippers in living color. Neil Armstrong along with earth and space science, suddenly lost its appeal for me and 45 more years would pass before ROY G BIV would become a spiritual and beautiful sign from my brother, Jim as he faithfully sends me rainbows from his condo in heaven.
Thinking now that both the astronaut and the Brady girl shared my same level of disdain, albeit different reasons, I gave up on celebrities and decided to hit up the internet to see if good kismet followed me On This Day in history. Having poured over site after website, I came up with Nada. Zilch. Diddly Squat! Nothing eventful happened on August 5, 1957 unless you find that fact that WJZ-TV in Baltimore MD began radio transmissions interesting. The only explanation I could conceive of the lack of great history making that day was that my stars were just out of alignment. Quite possibly, there wasn’t a moon rising on Venus—nor Jupiter or Mars. In fact, even if I had a moon rising on a planet, it would probably have been Pluto-- which has since been demoted as a planet and sent into exile. Once again, earth and space science was wreaking havoc in my life -- or maybe I was just born under the wrong star.
My mother told me I was overdue by a week. Late as usual. I was probably just distracted doing last minute straightening up before leaving the womb. To this day I am still late for things. ALWAYS. Oh, those last few dishes in the sink, the pillows and throws left in disarray falling off the sofa, a half-read newspaper scattered across the table -- here is where I teeter between late or on time. Most people can just turn and walk out the door leaving everything as is. Gobsmacked I wonder, how is this possible? It would make me just as crazy to see it all when I came back home! In my ship-shape mind, it is so cathartic to return home to order-- a place for everything and everything in its' place.
Depending on the day, unfortunately or unapologetically, I’m the most driven, over-driven, type A, project oriented, perfectionist type person on the face of the planet. I am a Leo—the Royal. A leader driven by energy and fire. So how is it I have no control over control? Once more I am blaming it on the stars. My zodiac is so confused. My due date put my stars under Cancer—the Homemaker, yet I was born an actual Leo—the Royal. So, there is it. They have been at odds ever since and it appears there is no escaping the fact that I will continue to be the Queen of Obsessed Homemaking—QOH for short. Move over OCD. Or perhaps my wagon was just hitched to the wrong star and I need a new one. I heard you can buy one through NASA for $20 and think this is such a perfect idea for a birthday gift!
Speaking of birthdays, I’m turning 62 in a few days and it dawned on me that I’ve lived more years that I have ahead. Truth. And I don’t care what everyone says about 60 being the new 30—it’s a load of crap. When you are 20 you can’t image turning 62--yet, here I am. But becoming 62 and being 62 are two different things. The first is entertaining in a way. The latter is more of a surprise. I know it sounds clichΓ©, but it really does sneaks up on you—especially if you are married with kids. Most of us squeak through our 50’s relatively unscathed finally crossing the --sports, teen years, college, weddings, and 1st, 2nd home mortgage -- finish lines of raise our families. For thirty to forty something years, it’s a whirlwind of life decisions based on numerous people and factors that leave you at moments wondering why you decided to forgo the nunnery. Frequently, I didn’t always make everyone happy,
For the past 4 decades, my life has been devoted to the 4 people I love most in this world. As much as I might not want to admit it, my wagon really had hitched me to the right star and I’m glad that the Homemaker always took preference over the Royal. But now it’s time for the ROYAL! I am thrilled to be 62 and am looking very forward to this next decade of my life. It feels that I am about to cross over a precipice and on the other side awaits movie theater discounts and dinners served at 4:30. Will I finally let my hair go gray? Will I yell at children who run across my garden? I am excited to find out! August 5, 2019, I am officially unhitching my star because …
It is not in the
stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves
~
William Shakespeare
“Come over to the gray side!” NOT! π€ͺπ.
ReplyDeleteHappy soon to be Birthday!ππ·ππ
You & I are a lot alike.....maybe not in the cleaning OCD! πππ
Yes we are, my little kindred spirit!
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