A Birthday to Remember

A friend of ours made this astonishing cake.
Those veggies are FROSTING!

I love birthdays.  Yours, mine, ours, theirs…it doesn't matter; birthdays are one of my favorite things.  I like the idea that for one day in the year an individual can be loved on, feasted with, sung to, and given gifts.  Every one is worth that.  Of course, I realize that for some the loving may come from a pet, the feast may be a candy bar, the song may be on the radio, and the gifts may be green traffic lights and a pretty sunset; but, if that person acknowledges these things on their birthday, it is still a special day.  I think birthdays give each one of us an opportunity for reflection and hope.  Unlike New Year’s Day, when everyone around us is encouraged to acknowledge the annual passage of time, a birthday is personal, private even.  Only you have lived the exact moments of your days past and will experience the fullness of your days to come.  Only you know the wish that you make when the candles are blown out (or your head hits the pillow that night). 

I respect that for a variety of reasons not everyone wants to make a big deal out of their birthday.  Many people dread and/or dismiss it.  I won’t pretend that there aren't valid reasons for this, but I also get the sense that some of the pervasive “reasons” are cultural strangulations that do not actually serve us well.  Some simply don’t want to (or can’t) feel they are valued in so acute a manner.  For many others, a birthday is a nasty reminder of growing older, a plausible reason to pine for what is lost and walk with trepidation toward what lies ahead.  But why, I wonder.  Why can’t we take 24-hours to absorb the healthful message, “Hey, I’m actually worth it!”  And why exactly are we supposed to flip a switch from our childhood mentality of feeling proud to be a year older to our grown up mentality of feeling uncomfortable with 365 more days of experience, memories, and story to our life? 

Supposedly, a lady isn't to reveal her age, but I’m going to let you in on a secret…I’m only a lady because I choose to be.  So here goes…

Tomorrow, I turn 30.

Inaugurating oneself into a new decade is always a big deal.  For the past while, I've been taking stock of my feelings about the big 3-0.  I’m excited, cautious, inquisitive, and relieved all at once.  The very instant I type these sentiments I also shrug my shoulders in acceptance of the basic truth that I am 30 no matter how I feel about it.  I am a baby to some and an ancient to others.  Most of our lives we reside in this sandwiched location nestled between throngs of people we can learn from and share with interchangeably.  How marvelous a position to be in!  At a minimum I can rest assured that many have gone before me and still others will come behind.

The truth is that getting older doesn't really bother me.   No, I’m not as agile or thin as I used to be, but I’m also not as inexperienced or as stressed as I once was either.  I have a handful of gray hairs and a few fine lines on my face and am resigned that this time next year there will likely be a few more of each.  These are just a part of life that I've come to accept no differently than I did my baby teeth as they fell out or the spindly hairs that sprouted in my pre-teen armpits.  I expect there will be aspects of aging that I’d happily do without, but they will not deceive me into cringing about my own present and future. 

A full and meaningful life has the good, the bad, and the ugly in it.  I can honestly say that I have wonderful and horrible memories from every decade thus far and expect my 30's and beyond to follow suit.  However, my net assessment of life up to now is an overwhelmingly positive one.  I see my birthday as a day that I’m gifted with each year – a pause in which to absorb all the good so far and then believe, with a wish and a prayer, that there is more to come.  It is also an occasion when others can do the same on my behalf -- and I’m very grateful to them for taking time to do so.  The presents, cards, cake, and warbling serenade are just the proverbial “icing on the cake.”

I will concede that a birthday is just another day, but it doesn't have to be only that.  It is also a reminder that life has been good and will be what you make it. 

Tomorrow, I intend to have cake and eat it, too.