Thoughts on Birthdays

The older you get, the less enjoyable birthdays are.  At least that's been my experience and it seems to be the opinion of most people I know. 

On Richard's 30th birthday last week, we had our family dinner and I decorated with a little bit of black.  Not totally black because you have to save some for turning 40 and 50 and so on.  After we sat down and began eating, he said the black confused him and that he thought I was always so positive about birthdays; "Don't interpret the black as negative," I said. "It's meant to invoke humor".  Humor is one of the best ways to get through any of life's experiences, I believe.

I've always been one to see the bright side of things, like 40 is the new 30 and then 50 is the new 40.  I didn't feel quite so humerous a year ago when I turned the dreaded 50, though.

Never having been one to dread big birthdays, I woke and found this one to be different. 

All day long I thought , "This is just so wierd, everyone asking how it feels to be 1/2 a century old.  I'll be so glad when tomorrow comes."

 

And now a year later, I'm happy to say that turning 51 was a joy - for many reasons.  One, because it wasn't # 50, two because it marks 38 years that I get to live for my mother and myself, and three because my family made it such a special day. 

 

It was on Sunday, and Ben offered to fix dinner.  When we drove up to his house, I could see that all the kids (sans the college coeds) were there.  He and Laura put on this beautiful spread and we had a wonderful time.

One of the great things about living 1/2 a century plus one year is that the blessings get more and more bounteous.

I liked my 51st birthday.