It that time of the year again and I have a love hate relationship with Birthday’s at this stage. Aching bones, wonky knees and a host of other age related ailments. But, it’s always been my New Year. January 1st never worked for me so I’ve always targeted 25th. January as my new beginning every year. My youngest daughter, Jessica, just knocked on the office door with a kiss, card and frothy coffee. The perfect Birthday Gift.
Tomorrow I wake to some new, real and achievable intentions. Less junk food, less indulgences. More weights, more care and attention, more meditation, more gratitude and prayer. Here’s to a better year with more hugs, more trad sessions in Fitzpatrick’s in Kilkee. Hope is a good thing.
Different Times:
While chatting with my Mam on my birthday I was reminded of my coming into this world on a very cold and frosty (not unlike the weather we have been experiencing these past few days) night, January 25th. 1959
I was arrival #4 to this beautiful young couple, Mam and Dad (Helen Conlan and Cyril Benson). It was past midnight when I let it be known I wanted out.
No Taxi service available, no telephones in the homes, few if any cars in the entire neighbourhood and the typical mode of transport of the day, the bicycle was not going to be suitable with a heavily pregnant Mam and a suitcase. And so, it was a long 3km walk on a frosty, snow dusted night, to the recently opened Marion Nursing Home in O’Connell Avenue in Limerick. (in stilettoes heels I may add, as Mam was always, and continues to be very fashionable, and a woman had to look ready for anything)
A member of an Garda Síochána thought it prudent to approach a couple walking alone up O’Connell Street at nearly 1am on a freezing cold Sunday morning with a suitcase in hand. On seeing how pregnant Mam was, he exited stage left very quickly. Too much drama for his graveyard shift. There was little he could do anyway. No radioing back to the station then for assistance. They continued on their ‘stop-start’ way, contractions allowing.
They made the nursing home around 1.45am where Dad handed Mam and suitcase over to the nurse on duty and returned home into the frosty night. No father’s invitations to hang about then for the main event. Dad returned home the his two daughters and son at home in Thomondgate.
Different times. To a beautiful Mam and Dad. Thank you for all you did and do.
Music is a very particular to everyone but indulge me in listening to the following, even if briefly to these two pieces of opera. The first piece is from the Shawshank Redemption and Morgan Freeman describes it beautifully. It is the “Sull’ aria from Mozart’s “The Marriage of Figaro” and for a moment, please free yourself from the rotten news and crap that is going on around us right now in Ireland and globally. And the second aria is Song to the Moon, sand by Renee Fleming, a tragic aria from opera by Dvorak – Rusalka. A tragic tale but a piece of music that will vibrate your soul.
Golden Scars
Finally, a special person and friend, sent me this video and I think it a great ending to this meandering Birthday Blog. My daughter, Elaine is living this fantastic proud journey in helping others. https://www.iamelainebenson.com/
Thank you Sean Buranahiran.
Good luck for 2021 to all my family, friends and readers. My New Year Starts.
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