"Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me." Isn't that exactly the tune? No longer do you hear your name for it seems you're the only one celebrating. Maybe it doesn't matter. Let's face it, by our thirties we have mostly everything we want. The bows and presents are now replaced by a card in your mailbox signed: Hugs and Kisses, Love Mom. Surely she won't too soon be forgetting the day she laid in the hospital bed giving birth to you. They say it's a pain you easily forget, but a love that last forever. The story has been told and retold to me. Now that I have my own children, I can attest, there will be no forgetting those dates!
But now into my thirties, I no longer look for presents or cake. But yes, I'm still looking. For what you may ask. It's very simple...remembrance.
I think of all the birthdays I've celebrated and nothing touches me more than someone remembering the day. If only everything was that easy. Imagine the money would save if people just began to say "Remember me" on Christmas and Valentines Day.
Today I turn 34 years old. I am sitting in my cozy home watching the snow outside my window. Yes, it is snowing. My children have not yet gone tricker-treating and we are getting our first snowfall. Alot is going on in the world today, so my birthday is just another blurb. Our famous Philadelphia Phillies are in the World Series. Hopefully the snow will let up before the game tonight. I'll remember to tune in to watch them. I doubt they'll remember to send me a card. In less than a month, a new President will be elected. I'll remember to vote. Still haven't received Best Wishes from McCain or Obama. Well, it's only 12 noon. There's still hope.
I can't complain though, I received 3 phone calls so far and both my sons wished me a Happy Birthday. I got exactly what I wanted. Somebody remembered.