Dear C,
So sorry I haven't been in contact of late. Rest assured, I haven't disappeared in a puff of smoke. Rather, I have been busy fielding a number of emails and invitations from friends and family, wishing me Many Happy Returns on reaching my most recent 'milestone' birthday. Quite why people have chosen to be so kind to me on what otherwise might have been a difficult occasion is something of a mystery. The day dawned auspiciously enough, when one of the twins made me breakfast in bed, then left me in peace to eat it! It continued with phone calls and deliveries of flowers from friends, which put me in such a good mood that I simply laughed when the florist delivered a funeral arrangement by mistake. The Oldballandchain even went so far as to give me a massage - the paying kind, for once, not the usual five minute shoulder rub that invevitably results in some kind of happy ending. For him. Most gratifying of all, perhaps, was when my other daughter inquired, seemingly in all innocence, whether or not I had lost weight. The memory of this comment still brings tears of joy to my eyes, almost a week later.
However, while I am the last person to dismiss any kind of attention, I cannot help harbouring a sneaking suspicion that it is really a form of schadenfreude, from people who have already weathered this storm, or who are still far enough from it not to feel any empathy. Either that, or they fear that I am standing on some kind of emotional precipice, poised to jump. Regardless, I find myself feeling pecularly sanguine about the age in question, probably because I have already been anticipating it (and celebrating) for most of this year. I suspect reality will only set in when my birthday rolls around again next year, when another twelve months have passed and I am one year closer to death. At least then I will be able to derive some comfort from being able to wish others approaching my position a heartfelt Many Happy Returns, without inquiring too closely into my own motives.
P.
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