Birthdays

Birthdays for me have always been special. I always look forward to October 6 with anticipation. It is the same feeling as Christmas morning (yeah, I know I am Jewish and not supposed to celebrate that one, but too freaking bad, I enjoy celebrations and if I choose to celebrate the Pagan holiday with the gift of giving . . . that is just my prerogative!). Anyway, back to my birthday!

I have always felt the excitement build as the days of the month of September slip away. The days get a little shorter, the rays of the sun are a bit dimmer in the late afternoon as I am on my way home from work and the mornings are darker and even a bit cooler (yes, even in South Florida folks!). And suddenly it is October. It is almost here!

Then the celebrations begin. Privately, in my head, I have been preparing myself by practicing the new number. That new number that will be my age for 365 days. So for 364 days I have been telling myself that as of October 6, 2006 I will be 49 years old. So when October 6th actually arrives, I won't be so shocked at the realization that I really am that old!

But the numbers aren't so important anymore. It is the decades that become significant! When I turned 20, 30 and 40 -- those numbers where critical. Next year -- 50 -- I will celebrate in a special way, not sure how yet, but I am planning to do something spectacular.

As a kid though, the numbers were extremely important. When I turned three-years-old, I remember it very, very well. I work my pink sleeveless dress with a pink satin sash tied at the back and a crinoline undergarment that made the skirt portion of the dress stick way, way out so it was like a ballet tutu! I wore my black patent leather Mary Jane shoes with the rounded toes and my four-leave clover gold charm on a gold chain around my neck. My hair, my signature hair, pulled way back into a very tight pony tail, so tight that it felt like a face lift (sorry Mom, but that is how you used to make my pony tail!!). I was sitting in a high chair at my Mom's step-sister's house (Marcia) in Brooklyn surrounded by my Mom, my Mom's step-mother - Grandma Norma, and some cousins -- Marsha and Dennis, sweet Dennis (how I miss him). The cake -- as always -- was a chocolate blackout cake straight from Ebinger's mmmmmmmmm. The best cake in the world for chocolate lovers. It was three, sometimes four layers of chcolate cake with frosting in between each layer and then all around the entire cake and then the frosting was sprinkled with some of the cake crumbled up. They always placed the plastic "Happy Birthday" thing on the top of the cake with the obligatory number of candles, with one to grow on!

Don't know why this memory is so ingrained in my memory, but it is.

But that is probably why I love celebrating my birthday so much. It is such a happy memory for me. Joyous times. It is a reminder of life and birth and family coming together.

So now, fast forward to 2006. The week of celebrations have begun! I now celebrate for more than just one day. I celebrate with friends. I celebrate at work with co-workers. I celebrate at home with my family. And, why not. It is just something fun to do. It isn't about presents. It is about the memories that are created in the process of celebrating. It is about the foods that we create to devour in honor of the celebration. It is about the photos that are snapped as a reminder of the good times that were had. So happy birthday to me! Thank you for celebrating with me!