I love Birthdays, my own and other people’s too. It’s a day to acknowledge the presence of someone else, the joy that they bring for being part of our lives and to celebrate knowing them. I’m a birthday person who always would like to have a party but I’m not that great at organizing something like that for myself. I remember bitter disappointment on a big decade birthday wanting to have my then husband throw me a surprise party just as I did for him the year before. And, nothing, it was a solemn birthday that year for me, pitty-party for one. It’s my own fault, I could have planned a party for myself but I didn’t, just like I didn’t plan one this year. I did think about it but was too busy to make it a priority and plan it.
I’m still getting used to the adult single life and with it this birthday business. The past two years have been two out of four years since I was twenty-one years old where I was not in a relationship with someone or married. That’s many birthdays of waking up to cards, tea or coffee in bed, sometimes flowers and more. Getting older, I now wake up grateful to be breathing, having my health and loving where I am at. Luckily for me, the house isn’t empty because Ladybug is only 11. Her sweet hugs and kisses in the morning will help set the tone for the day.
I am blessed to live in a place I love, with friends who are genuine, and a community which is supportive. Most of all I feel gratitude for my health as I’ve watched family members and friends struggle with theirs. I count my blessings that I have three children who chose me to be their mother, they’ve helped to shape and teach me into the person I am. Then all my little grandbaby, love nuggets, how sweet is life when one of them, last week, climbs up on my lap and gives a big hug and says, “I love you Pima”!
Today, on my birthday, I love me too.