Wednesday, January 11, 2012
I remember turning eleven on the eleventh day of January. I also remember feeling sorry for those who would turn thirty on the thirtieth. I thought it was so much more fun having that one special birthday as a kid when every annual celebration was incredible. My grandfather and I shared the eleventh as a birthday which made it even more of an event than if the date had belonged to me alone. I was his first granddaughter (and only for another decade) and was delivered right on time with a bow on my head. (Okay. I'm joking about the bow.)
That year, as always, we had the party involving tons of kids, pizza, cake and ice cream. My favorite gift was a Camelot costume for my Barbie doll. (Does anyone even remember Camelot? Robert Goulet in a crown crooning "If Ever I Would Leave You"?) My friends and I, party hats askew, ran amok in the backyard (no snow on the ground here in Florida in January) as every single girl pretended to be the pretty blonde star of the Mod Squad. My cousin delighted in saying "The devil made me do it!" just like Flip Wilson. And that night when I went to bed, exhausted, full of cake with a well-dressed Barbie under my arm, I fell asleep smiling.
This year, I have to admit I'm way past eleven. No matter how much I offer to pay them, not even my dearest friends can swear I don't look a day over twenty-one. I have to tell you, though, I was wrong about the whole "special birthday being more fun when you're a kid" thing. It's different now, but still a celebration . This year, there'll be less cake, not as many guests at the birthday dinner and definitely no running amok in the back yard (the raccoons living back there scare my entire family), but I'll be celebrating a nice dinner with most of those I hold close in my heart. Not all can attend--Some are traveling for work, some live too far away, some have schedules crazier than mine and some have passed on. I'm grateful for those still a phone call away and thankful that those who are gone that were once a part of this crazy, fabulous tapestry I call my life.
I'm curious, dear readers. What was your golden birthday? Or that one gift that just blew your socks off? I'm heading out for cake and ice cream (don't tell Eileen at Weight Watchers - she'll be dogging me next Saturday!) but I'll be checking in to see what you have to say. Happy birthday to all whenever your birthday may be and to all - celebrate each and every birthday to the fullest!