I got a lot done yesterday; wrapped the Christmas gifts, straightened up a bit, found K's old printer in the basement to bring into school until all the computers are hooked up so that kids can print stuff somewhere, made room for the tree, took out the lights. Watched that National Geographic show that was on last week about animals in the womb, and recorded it for the anatomy teacher, who doesn't get that channel.
Today is my Re-Birthday. I wrote all about it here, four years ago or so, not long after I started keeping the diary. If you haven't read that entry, you probably should, because it says a lot about me. In brief, and as you may know, I had a brain tumor that was removed 15 years ago today. I lived and survived and am okay.
Some years, December 17 goes by without my even realizing it, and when I do a few days later, I can't believe that I forgot. This was A Big Deal. It is not so much anymore; it's just the way things are, but I thought 15 deserved a bit of recognition anyway.
I said in my entry four years ago that having the brain tumor and having it out was the defining experience of my life. I no longer think of it that way. For now, the defining experience of my life seems to be the death of my parents. That seems odd because, unlike having a brain tumor, your parents dying is something of a universal experience. But the fact remains.
The Sibs and I realized last night -- for the first time! -- that my re-birthday is only one day off from hers, which is a pretty odd coincidence. 29 years ago, her twins were born on December 9, and two days later she went into a coma, from which she woke on December 16. (I may have told that tale elsewhere, too, so I'm not repeating it here; I'll look up the link at some point.) December 16 was also Grandpa Sam's birthday; let's see, this year he would have been 114, which is why I gave up the whole this-year-he-would-have-been a few years ago, because seriously, no way he was ever going to be 114.
And otherwise, an ordinary day. K worked this morning in stock, which they can do here in Bergen County as long as they don't open the stores on Sunday, and she's home now, and r is here and we're going to decorate the tree when we finish lunch. I told the MIL that K ended up not having to work next Saturday, but we're still on for a late Christmas-that-isn't-even-Christmas with them that day. What. Ever.
It's lunch for me and then tree time and then a nap, perhaps. Fifteen. Gee.