I remember as a kid not particularly enjoying the fact that my birthday was so close to Christmas. My mom’s birthday was Christmas Eve so I’m sure it’s something she could relate to. Still, we were pretty poor. Money was very tight. And the cakes in the stores that were the best deals were decorated for Christmas. Therefore, my birthday cakes said “Happy Birthday” but they oozed Christmas poinsettias, ivy, and lots of red and green. (Why is red the worst tasting icing of all?)
But memories change. Things that meant nothing or were possibly annoying in our past can become cherished memories. My mom is in spirit now. Christmas Eve has been very special to me my entire adult life, but now that mom is passed it’s even more hallowed. Years ago I started asking for my birthday cakes to have poinsettias instead of roses. Ivy instead of traditional piping.
I should say “asking” for a holiday birthday cake only when I haven’t been busy avoiding the concept of birthdays (for myself) altogether.
My husband, Lee, is in retail. I understand that. I met him at Christmastime and so I have been clear on what that means from the beginning. Over the years, it has only gotten more intense. This also allowed me to ignore my birthday since Lee isn’t around to push the issue. However in recent years, I have started to noticed that doing so made me blue (rather than red and green) and so starting this year I took it upon myself not to ignore it. That doesn’t change the reality of Lee’s life. There simply isn’t time for him to arrange for a birthday cake – let alone go and get it.
So I had to get my own.
I was about to type “Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the reality of Lee’s life” when I realized it’s not unfortunate at all. It may seem weird, uncomfortable, or lonely to go get your own birthday cake (I admit it felt weird picking it up at the bakery) but it’s actually a form of self loving. My friend, Hay House author Susan Dintino, has been preaching this to me for years. Apparently I’m just a slow-learner since I’m only now understanding what she’s been saying.
This is a very special birthday for me. Not because it’s any particular number (it’s not.) But because my birthday is 12/12 – the date of the last full moon of the year and the decade. It also happens to happen at 12:12am EST. The messages from my angels lately have been… well… let’s just say “intense.” At first I found them alarming, but I’m past that.
Now I find them empowering.
Lee’s company has a big sales event tonight and he can’t join me for my birthday. But that’s okay.
One of my favorite holiday traditions is to wrap Christmas gifts while watching “The Sound of Music.” I sing myself silly and wrap and tie bows until it looks like a glitter factory exploded. I’ve moved that tradition from its usual date to tonight – the evening of my birthday.
I am spending my birthday acknowledging myself – something I do far too little of. I am spending my birthday loving me and trying not to ignore the date because I don’t like the number of metaphorical candles on the cake (there will only be one.)
And… I’m spending my birthday with Julie Andrews.
I can’t think of better company.
Happy birthday to me!
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