When I was growing up, my birthday always involved inviting a few friends over for a sleepover. I would choose my special birthday dinner that Mom would make, including what kind of cake I wanted her to make. My "party" would involve my friends who were going to sleep over and the family members who may be local at the time. I never knew any different. That was always enjoyable and I knew it was me who was being celebrated. My day. My parents would regularly spend a lot of time planning surprise parties for other friends or family. It was always fun to see how surprised the special person was. It was also a ton of fun to plan these celebrations.
When I got married, it seemed that my birthday began to be celebrated less and less. Eventually it was frequently not celebrated because I was born early in the month and our budget was unable to justify any additional costs. My ex-husband's birthday was the last day of the month, just after Christmas, and was always celebrated by parties, gifts, or whatever he wanted it to be. Through the years, I never knew if my birthday was going to be celebrated or not. I eventually just chose to ignore it. When they were little, my children never knew what day my birthday was on or considered that I even had one.
Eventually, I began to feel that, if the leader of my home, my husband, did not celebrate my day, then it should not be celebrated by others. Many years my parents would call and sometimes they wouldn't. They always sent me a card, either the day of my birthday, a few days prior, or sometimes one to two weeks after. My brothers occasionally called if they remembered. I remember one year my adopted sister decided to show up at our home with balloons, a card, and a gift. She wanted to express her love for me, while at the same time try to show my husband that my birthday was important to celebrate. I was surprised and felt special, while at the same time, felt bad that my husband had forgotten. It was most assuredly a mixed feeling kind of day. She regularly attempted to make it a special day for me, but she does have her own life, as do others.
My best friend discovered eventually that my children had no idea when my birthday actually was and took it upon herself to change that. She respected how I felt, however became quite upset that she was unable to celebrate the day that her best friend was born. She began to make it her mission to teach my children to remember the day their mother was born. She began to do what she could to make it special for me. I will say that I have not been an easy student. When I learn a lesson, I learn it well. The more that time had gone on, the more I realized that I am different. Celebrating my birthday is not a luxury I have. She even tried to plan a surprise lunch for me several years ago, inviting some good friends. We arrived at the restaurant with my children, and my sister w/ her children. No one else arrived. This person who my best friend was convinced was so special, was obviously not as special to others.
Eventually, my children did learn when my birthday was. Sometimes they choose to celebrate it and other years they don't. My best friend never forgets, but she is only one who remembers it every year. It is fascinating that I can remember everyone else's birthday, call, plan parties, etc yet mine is regularly passed over. This year, my best buddy was more excited about my birthday than normal. She said it was because of how traumatic the last year had been. My last birthday had been just after my surgery in which I was diagnosed with appendix cancer. She said she wanted to celebrate that I was still alive.
Eventually, my children did learn when my birthday was. Sometimes they choose to celebrate it and other years they don't. My best friend never forgets, but she is only one who remembers it every year. It is fascinating that I can remember everyone else's birthday, call, plan parties, etc yet mine is regularly passed over. This year, my best buddy was more excited about my birthday than normal. She said it was because of how traumatic the last year had been. My last birthday had been just after my surgery in which I was diagnosed with appendix cancer. She said she wanted to celebrate that I was still alive.
The reason this has been on my mind today is that today is my birthday. My daughter and my best friend remember the date, though I have little doubt that it is mostly because my daughter was reminded by my best friend earlier this week. My best friend wrote on my Facebook wall and tagged me in a post, informing everyone that today was my birthday. It was after that posting that, eventually people began to notice and wish me a happy birthday. Until that posting, it appeared that it was going to be yet another year when my birthday was just another day to others. I guess I am an all or nothing person. Either consider me important enough to remember the day I was born, or lets just not celebrate it at all. Is that a selfish view? Should I just accept that I am important to a few and not to most others? Is it that big of a deal to not celebrate it? At a work lunch last week, we were discussing the fact that we rarely celebrate my birthday. I was informed that it is time for that to change, that I should begin to celebrate my birthday. I have no idea how or even where to start with that.
I guess I just thought I would share my annual birthday self ramblings.Thank you for taking the time to read my pondering.... Honestly? Sometimes I just wish this day would just go away and then I would not have to struggle with it.
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