Monday, December 05, 2011

The Write Celebration

I am preparing to celebrate a birthday−another milestone birthday.  I enjoy birthdays, never worrying about getting older, only worrying about not getting older. After a scary experience four years ago, I am even more emphatic about celebrating each year.  

For me, a birthday is a time for reflection.  At this point in the blog I should include a poem.  Something written in the wee hours of the morning when I was feeling especially philosophical.  Since I haven't written any poems lately, I will carry on with my reflective meanderings.

First of all, I give thanks for everything in my life.  I am thankful for so much.  I reflect on life-long friendships remembering how as children we wondered what it would be like to be grownups.  What would we look like and where would we live.  Would we be nurses or teachers?  Who would we marry and how many children would we have?  Our whole lives were before us and we were bursting at the seams to know what the future held. 

I am still excited when I think of my future: wondering what new ventures I will explore before my next birthday.   Life is especially precious to me.  Well, I am not saying it isn’t precious to you, too.  I am just saying...

My birthday is close to Christmas.  Always has been−always will be.  I have several cherished tree decorations that I received as birthday gifts over the years.  Carefully wrapped in festive red and green paper with silver ribbons and bows.  One year I received a lovely card for your birthday in DecemberIt showed a family in a wreath festooned living room.

When I was a kid, there were no birthday parties for me.  Oh sure, my older sister Ruth always had a party.  Her birthday is in August. 

I can still picture Ruthie's friends in their little party dresses, white ankle socks, and patent leather shoes.  If I listen hard enough, I can hear their chirpy giggles as they chase each other across the grass in a game of touch tag.  They all had freckles, or maybe it was only my sister.  They drank lemonade from very tall, very skinny, glasses.  A picture perfect birthday party.  That’s the memory that sticks in my mind.  There are more memories but that is a whole other story.

My husband is not an organizer of parties.  Truth be known, he would prefer to not even attend parties.  So, no help from that front.  I don’t expect my son to organize anything.  Afterall, would he even know whom to invite?  A family dinner would be nice though.  But, don’t forget my birthday is close to Christmas.  People are just too busy getting ready for...well, Christmas.

Last year I decided at the last minute to invite some girlfriends to the house for a few glasses of wine and let’s-see–what-I–have-in-the-fridge appetizers.  It was great.

This year I am not so sure.  I planned to travel a few miles north and do some snowshoeing.  I haven’t been on snowshoes in almost−wait, let me think−oh no, has it been that long?

I could email my friends and tell them where I will be and they can join me if they like.  What if no one shows up?  I will be all alone in my struggle with alien snowshoes.  Margaret will be there.  I know she will come.  Margaret is big on birthdays, just like me.

Or, maybe I should choose a restaurant and let everyone know I will be there for lunch.  They could take time out from their shopping and meet me.  How sad I will look sitting at a table for fourteen – by myself.  No, that will not happen.  Kathy and Becky will be there.  I am sure they will.  So would Dawna, if she lived near me.  But it is too unpredictable travelling this close to... well, Christmas.

Perhaps, I should book a spa weekend for one.  I could mull over my past year while I am being massaged and oiled...  How about a weekend away with my husband?  No, he would only say, what?  this close to Christmas?

Hmmm...I could go to On The Front and order a drink – dry vodka martini, straight up with a twist, please– and enjoy the magnificent view of the city with all the sparkling... well...Christmas lights. 

A notebook and pen would be tucked into my evening bag just in case an idea for a story surfaced.  I could write while everyone around me watched and wondered why I was sitting all by myself in an upscale restaurant, sipping a martini and writing furiously in a dog-eared journal.  How sad, they would think, she is all alone and it is so close to Christmas.

Ah, don’t worry about me.  I will celebrate this birthday in appropriate fashion. Stay tuned to hear all about itAnd, oh, would you be free for lunch?


  1. A very happy birthday to you! And welcome to the world of blogging. Still new to it myself, just started this past summer, to connect with other writers too. What a surprise to find one from such a familiar place! I lived in Blue Point for several years, and went to Aberarder public school. All the best finding a publisher, looking forward to reading your book!
    ps What time is lunch?

  2. Celynne, thank you... and thank you again. I would love to visit your blog. Please share your address.
    You have no idea how much I am looking forward to YOU reading my book. haha Your good wishes are appreciated.
    I have changed the lunch to a breakfast. Would like nothing better than to meet a new writer friend!