As a youth I was always so sad that on my birthday I was never able to see any of my friends. School would be out for fall break, and everyone would be tucked away at home or a relative’s house for Thanksgiving. So I never got to have a fun party in homeroom at school, I never got to invite all of my neighborhood pals over for cake and ice cream, I never had my friends gather at the local bowling alley or roller skating rink to celebrate. Not to mention, every 5, 6, or 11 years (in some certain or such order since leap years make it all go wonky) my birthday would actually be ON Thanksgiving and my birthday dinner would be the most delicious meal ever (not!) I mean come on, who loves turkey??
I think it was all of those years of denied acknowledgement and having to share the excitement that I now LOVE birthdays. Sing to me! Give me presents! Pay attention to me! Nothing you can do in a restaurant, at work, or in the general public can possibly embarrass me. I eat it right up because I’m making up for lost time.
I’m not sure when it changed, but I came to appreciate that my birthday is a time of year that family gets together. Everyone is getting ready for the holidays (my absolute favorite time of year), everyone has a full heart and feels grateful for life, health, and the love present in their lives, and on years such as this one where Thanksgiving and I share the day, I love that it is mandatory that my family surround me and celebrate thanksgiving, but more importantly my birthday.
This year, I was so fortunate to have my brother, sister in law, niece, and baby-bump nephew, all visiting for Thanksgiving, but more importantly my birthday. And I am so grateful for the love and support of G’s family too who came to fill out our rather large dining room table. The food was fabulous- yes, even the turkey- and the cake and pie was even better. The leftovers lasted a week, but the memories will last a lifetime.