Enough is enough and I’ve had enough
I’ve had enough of some things. However, there are some things that I can never get enough of. Apple fritters and coffee are things I’ll never get tired of. I would never use the word “enough” with these words.
Some things fall into this “I’ve had enough” category.
Recently, the kind lady of the parsonage said, “Your birthday is coming up. What do you want to do for your birthday?”
I looked at her like I had never looked at her before and said, “Enough, I’ve had enough birthdays and I don’t want another birthday.”
She looked at me, laughed as usual and said, “Silly boy, everyone has a birthday.”
In a way, I suppose you’re right, but I’ve had enough birthdays already and I don’t want another birthday.
I think birthday celebrations are pretty silly when you’re a certain age. Sure, when you’re young and energetic, you were looking forward to birthday celebrations. You were looking forward to all the birthday gifts you will receive. Nothing is more exciting than celebrating your birthday.
That is certainly a stage of life. However, that diligence has left the ranch. I’ve had enough birthdays already.
One of the most aggravating things about a birthday is that you have to reveal your age. You know that when you say, for example, “I’m 60 years old”, people will always respond by saying “You don’t look like 60”.
Everybody knows that’s the code to say, “You sure look old.”
Now someone will say, “60 is the new 40.” I have no idea what that means, but I certainly don’t want to live 40 again.
Of course, I have nothing against birthday cakes and such. I’ve eaten enough birthday cakes in my life that I probably don’t need them anymore. If only I could get a birthday cake without all the fuss and chanting, “Happy birthday to you …”
But there is one main concern I have about my birthday. I have thought quite deeply about this and have come to my final conclusion.
That conclusion is that I really don’t know when my birthday is.
It may sound silly, but I have good reason to question the actual date of birth. Unfortunately, I can’t remember anything from that day. I have a vague memory of being hung upside down by my feet and someone slapped me on the butt. That is all I remember.
I don’t know the actual date and year.
My wife once told me, “Well, your parents told you what your birthday was. You have to trust them.”
And that is the problem. It is a trust issue. In the early years of my life, whenever I started out, my parents had a habit of lying to me.
For instance. It took me years to discover that they had been lying to me about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. For many years, I was assured that there was a real Santa Claus and a real Easter Bunny. Can you imagine the anguish I experienced when I found out that they weren’t being honest with me?
If they weren’t honest with me about Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, how can I be sure they were honest with me about my actual date of birth?
Someone once pointed out that they had a birth certificate, but I don’t know the validity of that birth certificate. I don’t recall being present when that certificate was signed. How do I know it’s not fake?
It took me a long time to realize that even the Tooth Fairy wasn’t really true. When I was told about the Tooth Fairy, I could hardly wait to get a tooth out of my mouth and put it under my pillow.
Imagine the disappointment I felt when I discovered that the Tooth Fairy did not exist.
If I took the time to research, I would probably find many more things my parents told me that turned out not to be true. So when it comes to my date of birth, how can I really believe that that is my actual date of birth?
What if I am not as old as my parents say?
So with all the information I haven’t found, how can I celebrate my birthday again? I think I should put it aside like I did with Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. I should put it in the same category, laugh and say, “Ha ha ha, none of this is true.”
“What do you mean,” my wife asked, “that you are no longer celebrating your birthday?”
I explained to him that I celebrated enough birthdays, birthday I’m not really sure it’s my real birthday so I don’t need to celebrate anymore. Certainly enough is enough.
“What about my birthday?”
I just looked at her and said, “I’m sure we’ll celebrate your birthday at least once a year.” She smiled and I left it at that.
Later that night I thought about some scriptures that I had read in the morning. “The Lord our God spoke to us in Horeb, saying, You have lived long enough on this mountain” (Deuteronomy 1: 6). God was trying to keep Israel going.
Like Israel, sometimes we can stay “long enough” in a certain place and then we have to move on.