About Birthdays

Grandma celebrating

Happy Birthday

Birthdays get a lot of people down. Especially after their 20s. I find that tragic. Mind you, I cried real tears the day I turned 26, because I thought I was getting ancient. In retrospect, I find that incredibly amusing. I was married at that time to a man who didn’t much like cake, so I figured there would be no cake. I wound up with four! Not exactly in keeping with my low expectations. It was one of my best birthdays ever, and I can’t recall getting too upset about the passage of time since then.
Prior to enrolling in graduate school, I spent several years running a singing telegram service, Off-the-Wall. Predictably, the majority of these comedy telegrams were for birthdays, and one of the most popular was a spoof on aging–the Grim Weeper. I would dress in black, with a black veil and an oversized white lacy handkerchief, and boo-hoo about how this person’s life was over. And in no time flat, they would be laughing and saying “What’s the big deal? I’m 40 is all.”
I just had a birthday, one of many. Enjoyed it immensely, thank you very much.
One major take-away from those years of helping others celebrate their birthdays, is the realization that a birthday isn’t really about how old you are. Unless you just turned 18 and get to vote. It is a celebration of You. Your life, your existence, your very presence on this earth.
Whenever your next birthday rolls around, I hope you celebrate with friends, family, loved ones. If you are alone that day, I hope you celebrate anyway. I hope you enjoy cake and ice cream, or whatever it is that you enjoy. And I hope you find the occasion delightful.

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