Yesterday was my birthday.
When my husband and I started dating, he told me he didn’t “do” birthdays. He was uninterested in receiving any cards or gifts, having a cake, or in any way celebrating the day of his birth. I just didn’t get it.
I love birthdays. On my birthday, I am the queen, the center of attention. Feed me bonbons while I lounge on a chaise and read a good book. For my 40th birthday, my husband threw me a surprise party. I was totally in my glory and enjoyed every minute. If I threw a surprise party for my other half, he would divorce me.
Apparently people have different feelings about marking the date that indicates they are another year older.
I think the reason I am so into birthdays stems from my childhood. I grew up in a family with 11 children, so there was only so much attention to go around. On my birthday, however, I got to choose the dinner menu, blow out the candles on my cake, and open a gift that was not a hand-me-down. The attention was on me, and I reveled in it.
The other reason I love birthdays is that I can be unabashedly selfish. On most other days of the year, I don’t feel right about putting my own desires above the needs and wants of others. But on my birthday, I allow myself to do what I want. I let the laundry pile up and the kids fend for themselves. I eat deep dish pizza for dinner (something my family abhors) and have a glass of wine. (Well, okay, I have a glass of wine on many nights that aren’t my birthday.)
As I’ve gotten older, I have extended the celebration to encompass a few days to a week of “Mary’s birthday.” It’s fabulous.
Like most people, when I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to get older. Now I am wishing I could slow down the hands of the clock. Yesterday I met a friend in the bakery where – you guessed it – I was buying birthday treats, and she told me she was picking up a cake for her husband, who turned 50 that day. I was delighted with the coincidence of our mutual birthdays but envious that he was “only 50.”
Sure, birthdays can make us painfully aware of our mortality. That’s all the more reason to do them up big. Buy all the candles in the party store, and line them up on a massive whipped cream cake. Share a toast with friends and family and celebrate that wonderful day when you were born.
As a wise man once said, having another birthday sure beats the alternative!