Mountains Made Low

I guess I’m really a grown-up now. As of today. Even if I was a hobbit, as of today, I’d be a grown-up.

Like Frodo Baggins at the beginning of Fellowship, I turned 33 today. The age at which Hobbits come of age and take on adult responsibilities.

I’m not saying that I have any plans for returning the One Ring to the fires of Mordor, or the rightful King to the throne of men, though I’ll admit that the tasks that I set for myself sometimes feel as gargantuan as the challenges that Frodo faces.

Not often, but sometimes.

More like Frodo, though, I’ve been reminded today that I have good friends, loving relatives, and a place to lay my head at night. And I’m thankful for all of those things. Very thankful.

And who knows, there may be a quest in my future after all. I’ll be on the lookout for the gray wizard, at any rate.

And, maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to write another post called “If I Was a Hobbit, Part 2” seventy-eight years from today, on my eleventy-first birthday.

My 33rd birthday is 19 days away. But the celebration of my birthday has begun.

I’ve never really been one for big celebrations of my birthday. Yes, I know, some people reading here have memories of or have heard stories of parties. My 30th was a great party—old friends, new friends, family. My 28th must’ve been a great party—I don’t remember all of it. But I’m not one for big, at least protracted celebrations of my birthday.

Last year, for instance, the family celebrated my birthday and my sister’s on the same day (this has been a tradition, since our birthdays are 12 days apart on the calendar), and the celebration was the day after mine. And that was it. I didn’t throw a party, and I didn’t even have a drink with friends, on the actual day.

But today was the day that my parents could be here. They’re here now. Mom is watching my tv and Dad’s already asleep. And we celebrated my birthday today, with the traditional fanfare—presents and dinner out (note to self: body no longer used to restaurant cheeseburgers). I got a Lowe’s gift card, which will help out with some projects around the house in the near future, and a celtic cross keychain, and some decorative stuff for the house. In all cases, it’s pretty clear that my parents really know me.

I’m just a little bit put off by celebrating my birthday this early, though I have been glad to see the folks today (even if they are leaving bright and early tomorrow morning). Because I want to do something, on the day, to mark the day. (And I’m not talking about the 6-8:30 pm “final exam” with my Creative Nonfiction students on the 5th, which will be a sort of celebration, but not that sort of a celebration.)

And beyond that, I don’t know. I mean I know I’m sending my sister’s gift (her birthday’s a week from today) with the folks when they head over that way tomorrow, but I don’t know what we might do. I don’t know if I’ll be able to work out getting together with friends on or near my birthday.

But if I do anything on the actual day, it will mean that the celebration of my birthday has stretched out for almost three weeks. Which seems strange. But maybe I’m wrong.