Saintly, the prompt for today

I was born on Christmas Day and have always had to share my birthday with someone many more people felt much stronger about than anyone felt about me.  Beyond the major annoyance of hearing salespeople say “Oh, you were born on Christmas!” when they saw my I.D., it was always an odd feeling that the day essentially belonged to someone else. It was especially confusing when I was younger —  no one in my family ever sent a “combination” gift, so there were too many presents for me and not enough for my sister, which I remember liking in one way, yet it always seemed to end in tears: mine, not hers.

In this day and age, I also find I resent that it’s a male whose shadow I’m in. At least if it were a female I could be happy for the praises heaped on another woman! True, that particular male was born Jewish like me, so we share that—but I don’t identify with men, period.  In any case, this year I’ll be with some family in a lovely setting in what I call the country (Connecticut) eating, watching a video, relaxing and laughing. And if there are no church bells within hearing distance, I may be able to delude myself that it is MY birthday we’re celebrating!




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