I get by with a little help from my friends

I'm not 64 yet, but I still get by with a little help from my friends. Sarah called a couple of days ago, and though she has plenty of her own troubles to occupy her, she was full of questions about my summer and about what I was doing. We talked for over half an hour. It was good to talk with someone other than my beloved spouse because he and I see each other every day and run out of new topics.

Ellie, bless her, sent me a beautiful birthday card with a much-welcomed gift card for Barnes & Noble. She knows that reading is as important to me as it is to her.

Mike sent me an adorable cat e-card. They're really making those cards sophisticated now. This cat's tail was twitching just like the tail of a real cat!

My mother-in-law's card came early, as always. So far, she's the only relative to acknowledge my birthday. I assume both sons will call tomorrow, but I don't expect to hear from sisters or brothers. They'd be upset if I didn't recall their birthdays, but mine doesn't count.

Yes, it's silly to care about a birthday at age 57, but I'm the oldest in the immediate family now, and it's like I'm the matriarch who should be shown some small degree of respect--except I don't get shown that respect (unless someone needs money). For Amber's birthday, I made her a special card and sent her a movie and a DVD she wanted. I like to do those little things for others, but not when I feel like it's expected, maybe even demanded of me. The best thing about Amber is she's always delighted with whatever anyone does for her.

A birthday for me is one of those empty-hole-in-the-heart moments, where I cannot and do not feel loved enough. It's not presents. It's the thought that counts, really and truly. When I feel that someone took time out of his/her day to think of me, that means the world. When what I get from my family is nothing--no phone call, no card--I feel like a doormat.

I hope that when I'm 64, I won't feel disappointed in my family the way I usually do. (Note: I don't mean my sons and daughters-in-law. I mean my siblings.) However, I doubt much will change. People who spend their lives with their heads up their asses don't usually change. And I, of course, won't ever feel loved enough or appreciated enough, no matter what happens. That's my shortcoming, simply aggravated by the way my siblings treat me. They prefer to believe that I sit around and think of how superior I am to them and gloat that I have an education and they don't. If it helps them justify anything to themselves, then I guess no amount of evidence to the contrary will persuade them.

Gee, perhaps I need a bit of cheese to go with my whine....