musings

Birthdays make me happy. Doesn't really matter who in my family is celebrating one, they make me happy. From time to time, a friend or acquaintance will tell me that they hate the counting of the passage of time, or that birthdays make them feel bad/sad. I respect that. But birthdays make me happy.

To me, birthdays are great days to look back, to look forward, to live today. My birthdays are about the people in my life. When I look back to grade school, I remember the cupcake days, sharing birthdays with the kids that I spent more time with than with some of my family. Those kids became family to me, in so many ways. I can't think about growing up birthdays without thinking of those classmates. We grew up together, and even now, their presence in my memory continues to shape me.

So many of my birthdays after grade school blur into the regular days of everyday life. There are certain special ones: my first birthday away from home; that year we got engaged; my first as a mom, the first time it fell on Super Bowl weekend. But usually on my birthday I look back at where I've been--or, more specifically, where I've come from. Not just over the past year, but overall. And I look toward where I'm headed, changing direction, dreams, even fears, to a certain extent.

I like best when my birthday falls on a Sunday. I was born on a Sunday, shortly before 9 am. Legend has it that since Dad was lectoring that day at Mass, he sped from the hospital to the church, window down, horn blowing, yelling out the window, "It's a girl!!" Sometimes when he'd tell the story, he'd say that he told everyone in church, too, when he got up to read. Somehow the entire story seemed out of character for him, and yet, I still believe there must be truth. On my birthdays, I also remember and ponder the births of each of our children. Everyone loves to see a new baby, and when that new baby is to be a part of your life for the rest of your life, there is definitely a part of you that wants to scream out about the wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, joy of joys that has just been placed in your arms. Despite the pain in the neck I know I was as a kid, as a teen, I like to remember that my first breath brought that kind of delight.

This birthday has been wonderful. Low key. Nothing super unusual about it. No special presents or cake. Kind of a normal day with an extra little smile in my heart all day long. Just what my soul needed. And when I look back on it, I'll certainly remember how beautiful the day was, how wonderfully warm from my own special joy.