ответ: Ah, birthdays. From your dentist to your boss to your Facebook friends, everyone wishes you a happy one. Plenty of people go all out for their birthdays, staging elaborate parties even as adults, milking each birthday for all it’s worth.
For some people, though, birthdays are a source of ambivalence, anxiety, or depression. But they’re unavoidable, coming once a year whether we like it or not.
Generally, I’m not that enthusiastic about celebrating my own birthday. It’s not that I hate it, exactly, but I just don’t see the need to make a big fuss about it every year. My birthday happens to coincide with the start of the busy holiday season, too, so my stress is already sky-high.
During the November to December stretch, I’m trying to figure out vacation schedules, work demands, and family travel — not to mention Thanksgiving menus and shopping and cooking and cleaning and planning and budgeting and Christmas presents and, well, who has time for a birthday?
Since I tend to be the planner of my family and my group of friends, it typically falls to me to make my own birthday plans: picking a restaurant, making a reservation, getting a babysitter. This just adds to my to-do list and stress level.
Most of all, though, the reason I no longer look forward to my birthdays as much as I once did is that I’m missing a key person to celebrate with me. My dad passed away in 2003. My birthdays just haven’t been the same since.
My mom, of course, always wishes me a happy birthday. But it’s tough when one of the people who helped usher you into the world is no longer there with you to help celebrate the day you were born.
I think to myself, wow, it’s been 14 years since Dad died. In another 13 years, I’ll be the same age he was when he died. It’s too bad he never got to meet his only grandson … and so on.
Объяснение:
Списывай сколько хочешь
