It’s coming. Whether I like it or not. And it’s supposed to be happy.
Last year after I wrote a post about my birthday, I felt embarrassed, as if I was soliciting birthday wishes. I promised myself that I would NEVER EVER write another post about my birthday. I didn’t even list it on Facebook. When people requested the date for their birthday calendars, I ignored it.
Not every woman welcomes growing older with open arms. Or an open mind. I wasn’t big on birthdays either. Until I had cancer.
As a cancer survivor, I embrace every year. Every month. Every day I have. And I urge everyone else to do the same.
Yet this approaching birthday was a little harder to embrace….harder to wrap my arms—or my brain– around the number: 60.
I don’t feel it and I sure hope I don’t look it. I certainly wasn’t planning to blog about it. And I wasn’t planning to celebrate in a BIG way.
But it turns out I am.
Even without the Facebook reminder, some people were not about to let the day pass by; such a BIG number is hard to ignore.
And although it might sound strange to thank cancer for anything, I have cancer to thank, once again, for helping me grasp the gift of a birthday—no matter what number is attached. Recently I became part of the American Cancer Society Blogger Council—devoted to creating a world with more birthdays. And it’s given me perspective—to take the number out of the birthday and put the meaning back in.
So here we are.
My birthday week started 2 nights ago when I met my friends Myra and Trudy and their daughters for dinner and a movie—and they surprised me with balloons and a pre-birthday cake—digging into the chocolate got me right into the birthday spirit.
Actually the celebrating started even before the start of my birthday month— in July when a friend held a wonderful girls’ dinner party for two of us who are both turning—-60—(I am seriously gagging just to write this number)—the same week.
And now, due to schedules of family and friends, for a birthday I didn’t plan to celebrate in a BIG way, my birthday is multiplying into a mixture of mini–celebrations. I feel so lucky—on so many levels. It’s more than a birth–day, birth–week or even a month—it’s “Birthday season”.
Ok, so it’s a little over the top. A little indulgent. A little embarrassing (again.) I’m embracing it. And I just put the date up on Facebook.