From John, The First Born

John in the center of that flock of pilgrims.
(photo unknown)

Birth Days and Death Days

Depending on when El Philipe posts this substitute blog, you will be reading this either on my birthday, or the day after. Those particular days are usually pretty low-key in the Conway casa, saving the real excitement for the grand’s birthdays, and Farmer Cathy’s of course, the Queen of la casa. There is an aura of poignancy for that day this year, however. For on that day 74 years ago, my Dear Mother would have been in the difficult process of delivering me, her first born son. Just exactly one week ago, turned out to be her Death Day. Even in the last years of the 99 she spent here on earth, she would remember to call me and wish me Happy Birthday. And now that day will come tomorrow and there will be no phone call from her. I’m not sure why the irony feels so heavy thinking of her condition all those years ago. She passed so peacefully away in this year of 2020, but in the year of 1946, there would not likely have been any really peaceful nights or days in this time period, given that I was a week or more “overdue”. She wasn’t conscious or cognizant enough to have been thinking about that birth all those years ago in these last days of her earthly life, but the two of us had talked about it on more than a few occasions.
How connected are they, these beginning and ending days of each of us? Blessedly, there are no events as secret and unknown as that day in all of our futures when we, too, slip the surly bonds of earth and move on to whatever is next. Mom’s goal had been “to live to be a hundred”. She may have had some strong premonitions about when her Death Day was going to be as she decided on her 99th Birthday that it was actually her 100th, and we had miscounted. She was quite adamant about it, stating often, “Well, dammit, I should know how old I am!” We couldn’t argue with that, and heartily wished her “Happy Hundredth” while cutting up her “Happy 99th” Birthday Cake. She took that mantle and ran with it, telling all her fellow residents, “I’m a hundred years old now, you know!” It gave her pride and pleasure, and we weren’t about to burst that happy bubble. So, Mom, and this 74th Birthday of mine, I’ll be thinking of your 100th. And smiling.

6 thoughts on “From John, The First Born”

  1. Happy Birthday, John. Even though it won’t be the same without a call from your mom. I have a feeling she’ll be sending you a message somehow. Watch for it. She sounds like a spunky lady. When you get to be 99, you can lie about your birthday UPwards. [Most of us fudge it in the other direction.] Celebrate!

  2. Happy Birthday!!! Each one is very special and every day a gift. I had my first Palliative Care support group zoom call yesterday and I brought you up. My Oncologist and entire medical team now know of my Camino desires. Hope to walk with you someday. Neuropathy has no chance of preventing that. Happy birthday 🎂

  3. BEAUTIFUL WORDING, FARMER JOHN, TO CELEBRATE THIS GREAT EVENT CALLED BIRTHDAY.

    WISHING YOU THE BEST DAY EVER.

    I HAVE NO DOUBT THAT MOM IS LOOKING DOWN AT YOU TODAY AND SMILING.

    PARENTS MAY LEAVE THIS PLANET HOWEVER THEY NEVER LEAVE OUR HEARTS.

    ” Happy Birthday” Young Man.

  4. Dear FFHPFJ (Friend Favorite Hugger Pilgrim Farmer John),

    Such a poignant post, and what a special birthday this must have been. There is something about your family that is very special, the fact that your mum would be almost 100th is one of them, actually it is one more story to tell…

    A few years ago I was in a symposium by a psychiatrist specialized in neuroscience with no relation to religion or spirituality, and the first thing he asked was how many of us could feel in our lives the presence of those who died. I would say that 90% of the room raised their hands. This doctor asked a few of these people how did they feel that, where, etc. and people said the most various things: from “I believe in eternal life” to “it is in my heart” (a woman said because “the curtains move when she was angry at her death husband” :D) Everybody was waiting for this psychiatrist to say “you are all wrong”, instead he said: “Great! Now I can talk about “the mind”, something no one has ever seen, no one has ever been able to describe where it is located in the body, and be believed.”

    And he continued to say that “The people we love who have died, continue to live. They live in our mind through the stories we tell about them.”

    And that line is what your post is doing. And when I look at your facebook posts about the “tomato soup”, “cookies day”, “equinox day”, and all the “child-labor posts” 😀 😀 :D, I cannot help but thinking how much alive you will always be.

    Happy birthday to you and a very well deserved rest to your mum!
    Just Love,
    Cris

    1. Ah, Cris!!

      Real justice would be where you could just spend all your days writing, and spreading the love and good cheer that flows out from your so well put together words! It’s a treat to know you, and I hope to until my 100th!

      PFJ

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