Birthdays

     There’s been a lot of birthdays in our family this month, and more to come. It’s got me thinking, which is rare and not always a good thing. My mother in law’s birthday was Tuesday. Sammy, my grandson, turned four on the eighteenth. My other grandson, Cayde, turned two on the eighteenth of July. My daughter Candice turned thirty-seven last Saturday, my son, Chris, turned forty on the second of August. It would seem that a good, cold winter is a very good opportunity to get to know one’s spouse in the biblical sense. Maybe it has something to do with television being mostly re-runs that time of year, I don’t know. Birthdays will keep coming every year, unless one takes a turn for the worst and heads for the great beyond. There are really only those two options. We celebrate them mainly because we’re so happy that we made it to Option A again. When we’re kids, it’s about the presents. When we’re older it’s about the privileges like driving, drinking and joining the military. We feel “grown” with the Magic Number Eighteen. We can do what we want. Nobody can tell us what to do. We can get a job, have our own money, and spend it on whatever we want. That joy lasts about five minutes, or at least until the first light bill, or car note, comes due. Then we realize how badly we screwed up. Youth is never appreciated until it’s gone. By then it’s too late.

     We still celebrate birthdays, even after we’re too big for toys. It’s nice to know that people are glad we’re here. Even an inexpensive card or a phone call to say “happy birthday” is a treat when we’re older. Our loved ones take a little time out of their day to let you know that this is “your day” and we’re glad you’re still here. But seriously, where’s the presents? As we grow older it gets harder and more complex buying presents for grown folks. There’s only so much originality you can come up with on the fifty-eighth year in a row. Sometimes we’re surprised by what comes, sometimes we’re baffled. It’s the thought that counts. Yup.

     I always freak out a little bit as someone’s birthday comes near. I’m not a great gift giver. I try, I really do, but being a procrastinator has its drawbacks. I tend to like to give sentimental gifts (read as “cheap” to some) but some folks don’t do sentimental. Those are usually the ones I give Pet Rocks, or something equally valuable to (also read as “cheap”). As I said, it’s the thought that counts. Yup.

If you’re looking for a message in my column today, good luck. If pressed for one, I’d just have to say be happy to be alive and on this spinning rock for another year. That’s how I feel about it.

Happy Birthday, Y’all!