Everyone has one. It’s what you make of it.
I think I like mine more than most other people do – well least that’s what I’ve experienced. No one (there are exceptions – one that immediately comes to mind is my Father who who would announce his impending Birth Anniversary from the Pulpit – perhaps the apple does not fall too far from the tree) warns me of their birthday a month in advance. I like to keep my friends, acquaintances and colleagues up to date. My family knows and also, when we sit around the dinner table will remark that I’ll be turning a new age in a month/ 23 days/ a fortnight/ next week/ tomorrow/ in half an hour.
To anyone who has half an ear to listen with I will start giving them a heads up about a month before the time. The reactions vary, some people know me and are grateful that I’ve let them know, after all, they love me and wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to give me Good Wishes. Other’s know me a little less well and consequently comment and say that they hope that I have a good day – I assure them that I will. Then they nod and I can see them thinking of what they would like to give me in the form of a present – which is great since they’ve had fair warning now. The people who don’t know me that well always smile and I can tell that they think I’m forward. And yes, I suppose it is a little forward but what makes it perhaps right in front of forward is the fact that I tell people what I want for my Birthday too.
It’s for their benefit of course, there’s nothing quite so awkward as finding out that someone’s birthday is on that day and you have nothing to give them. I’m just sparing people that embarrassment. It’s not as if I ask for things that cost money – in fact quite the contrary the free-er the better-er. So a couple of years back I asked for hugs – I got a lot – since I made sure that I was working on my holiday. Everyone that I’d warned a month before the time (continuously) had a hug for me. One year I asked for text messages (which do cost something – thanks everyone that texted in 2009) I also like to ask for Sincere Best Wishes – I clarify and describe how I would like them delivered: a) with eye contact
b) you should clasp one of my hands in both of yours
c) I don’t want Mediocre or Good Wishes – I want only the Best for My Birthday.
Many kind souls humour me and consequently my Birthday ROCKS! I mean, who’s wouldn’t?
This year, since I’ve left my beloved Choir behind I’ve had a musical request – I would like everyone who I encounter today, in person or audibly on the telephone to sing to me -(my Father In Law asked what I’d been asking people to sing – I don’t think he’s had a Birthday since he was 5 years old – I told him about the common little ditty that people traditionally sing on one’s Hatch Day. He said, ‘Doh.”) So now at 16h10 on 10 Feb 2012 I’ve had 6 versions of Happy Birthday sung to me by my:
Clients – one of which can play 12 Medieval musical instruments and harmonised so beautifully with the 5 voices in my first Group Class this morning.
Colleagues – you know who you are – thanks for the call :-),
Friends – who flew here from London to sing about Squashed Tomatoes and Stew (in an Off Key – thanks),
Family – The Eldest and her father sweetly croaked out my request at 06h30 this morning,
Mother In Law even braved the first line before giving up since she’s been told that she shouldn’t sing and
Strangers – my Sister (who bombarded me on all platforms – facebook, text message and a phone call) and her delightful kitchen staff called me during their lunch rush to sing – that’s how special I am.
That is about 1 an hour since I woke up this morning. Do you know what it feels like to live in a Musical? People randomly breaking into song around me has been a life long ambition – and I know the words to join in and my choreography isn’t too difficult to follow either.
It’s not a Big Birthday – it’s not hitting one of the decade marks. It’s not a Crown Birthday. Still it’s a special day because today I’m the same age as my Mother – 37. When I first became conscious of the fact that she had an age, I asked her what hers was, she said she was 37. To this day, self centred creature that I am, I have filed away that ‘Mom is 37’ and to me that’s the age she always will be since I’ve neglected to ask her each year how old she is turning because, after all, it’s all about me.
And now I’m going to go and practice my Gratitude and go and respond to each every one of the 100 + Wishes on Facebook – but while I’m here and to all of you that are reading Thank You for making my Birthday as great as it is in my own tiny warped little mind!