How do you celebrate a birthday?
What do you do? What do you expect to happen?
This year, I restrained myself. I didn't tell clerks and random strangers it was my birthday, but I felt like doing it.
I am always delighted.
It's been a while since I made myself a birthday cake. I decided it was time to resume the custom, and I made a strawberry cake. I bought chocolate ice cream to go with.
I received some cards by mail and one present left on the porch beforehand.
This morning, I fixed hot tea, a big slice of cake, sat down and ate while I opened my gift--a gardening book, some seed packets and good gardening gloves from a dear friend--and read my cards. And ate my cake washed down with hot tea. It seemed a great way to begin the day.
I went shopping at the mall for my oldest granddaughter, who will be 14 tomorrow. At lunchtime, I stopped at Luca's, an old, still wonderful pizza place, and got one huge slice of thin crust with black olives, Bell pepper, sausage and pepperoni. Boy, it was good. Hadn't had it in a year, maybe.
Others like to reassess and stake goals on New Year's. I always do it on my birthday. After all, it is MY new year. I made some plans for me.
I had some calls from friends, hugs from family.
My granddaughters gave me some earrings. Lovely.
You notice, I did quite a few things for myself to celebrate me, myself and I. And in the doing, the old excitement and love of my birthday came barreling through.
I know folks who forget their birthdays. People who never celebrate it.
Well, I do. And I like myself for it. And maybe I connect more with kids because they delight in theirs.
I don't know how old I will live to be.
I just know on my birthday, I am delighted.
And I hope it always will be so.