While unpacking St. Patty decorations I came upon a little Hallmark book my sister gave to me on my birthday when I was very young.
As I read the tiny book, I thought of what birthdays mean. Yeah, sure... they mean I'm getting older. Shut up! Other than that, come on!
Birthdays for making wishes and feeling lovely. I like to think of things that make me feel happy.
Mom would throw a "party" for me every year with aunts, my uncle, cousins, grandmothers and best friends.
I made a tradition of my mom telling me "my birth story".
Feb 28, 1967 arrived between two blizzards. My sister had a friend (the neighbor girl) spending the night. Mom was sitting in her chair reading when the contractions began. She knew from her previous births, it would be awhile before I would make my appearance. . Ann and her friend were amazed with my mom and kept fussing over her with excitement. After giving Mom a hard time the next day by turning at the last minute, I eventually arrived at 9:58pm. (March 1)
The second half of my tradition with Mom was being allowed to stay up until 9:58 so we could celebrate my "birth time". Even after I became an adult, we'd be on the phone with each other at that special time.
This year, Flyboy is in the air and the eldest sons are gone so it's just me and the Teenager. We'll order take-out and relax. Meh... good enough for me. Maybe I'll share my "birth story" with him. I'm sure I'll get an eyeroll out of him.
What do birthdays mean to you?
