Remember being a little kid and having a birthday–surrounded by decadent food, all your little friends, and not having to clean up afterwards? Sigh. Those days are gone.
My birthday is the same week as graduation and the end of the school year, so it was always a fairly celebratory time–that is until RFK died on my birthday. And where are my friends now? Scattered in search of jobs. And yes, some dead. Who can I reach out to? And where is the time to pause to celebrate? Too many of us have to work hours that don’t leave us time for those little things.
Still, there is reason to be grateful. As a woman I worked with years ago used to say, “You woke up this morning. How many people in the world did not wake up this morning? ” That’s one. My parents are both living, and are healthy enough to remember my birth. That means every year I get to open a birthday card from them that always seems to arrive on exactly the right day. And yes, I do make enough to support myself. This month I even made enough to buy some of the medications I need, so my outlook this week is much improved. And don’t forget being born in the richest nation on earth. Having an American passport is something that much of the world envies.
So what if the candles on my hypothetical birthday cake would weigh more than the cake itself. Happy birthday to me!