Knowing my birthday was coming up, someone at work asked me what my favorite age has been thus far. I responded with a quick, “oh, I’d have to think about that one!” but I will say that question stuck with me long after we parted ways. Perhaps she was being clever and trying to ask discreetly how old I am. I’m young (or old) enough that I don’t care who knows my age. I’m turning 47 tomorrow. There you go, Debbie, and anyone else who is curious. I have always prided myself on living in the moment and doing my best to appreciate as many steps and breaths along the way as I could. It occurred to me that Debbie’s question might have multiple correct answers.
There was the original birth day — the day I was born. That was April 16, 1974. Richard Nixon was president and had a few more months in office before his resignation. As my parents were driving to Baptist Hospital in Nashville (and it will always be Baptist Hospital to me and the legions of people born there), they likely listened to Elton John and Cat Stevens and The Hollies on the radio in their blue Oldsmobile Cutlass. Box office classics included Blazing Saddles, Texas Chainsaw Massacre and, arguably the finest sequel ever made, Godfather II. As they wheeled Mom back, Daddy likely sat in the waiting room, smoking, and reading headlines about the Patty Hearst kidnapping, the Vietnam war winding down, and the upcoming Rumble in the Jungle.
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| Eagan, Party of 3 |
I had the requisite McDonald’s birthday party when I was maybe six years old. You knew you’d arrived when you either had or got to attend a McDonald’s birthday party. You got to go in the exclusive party room. There were paper hats and those little packages of shortbread cookies and fried pies with apple-flavored lava inside. And one of the characters would come out to delight you and your guests and have pictures taken. I seem to recall Grimace being on hand, mostly because I’ve spent the rest of my life wondering what Grimace is.
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| Seriously, what is it? |
Ask any of my childhood friends to this day, and they will regale you with stories of my third-grade birthday party at Swensen’s. Swensen’s was a Nashville restaurant that served burgers and ice cream. I just looked them up and there are still a handful of Swensen locations in Florida, Texas and California. I have vague memories of sitting at a long table with all of my classmates, laughing and eating ice cream sundaes. But, through the years, I can’t tell you how many people have come up to me and recounted how much fun they had at that birthday party. Sadly, that wouldn’t be my last birthday where my guests remembered more details than me. Or, when I made an ass of myself with some ice cream.
For my Sweet Sixteen, my parents staged an elaborate surprise picnic for me at a local park. As most surprise birthdays go, the planners are so bogged down in keeping the surprise that they fail to acknowledge the day at all, leaving the honoree feeling utterly shunned and forgotten. All was forgiven, I suppose, when we arrived at a picnic pavilion decorated to the hilt and flocked with a “This is Your Life” quality cast of characters including friends, family, former teachers, and old neighbors. There was a bonfire and weenie roast and the kids played volleyball and ran around the adjacent woods. Party favors included candy, yo-yo’s and ticks.
I’m sure I did something for my 21st birthday, but nothing comes to mind just now.
For my 30th, I was pregnant and Mangrum threw a surprise party for me at a local restaurant. Mom was in the hospital and it wasn’t looking good. In fact, following the party, I went to her house and cleaned their bathrooms in preparation for visitors to be stopping by in the coming days. She rallied and would hang in there for a few more months. It was a definitely a time of uncertainty and hellos and goodbyes.
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| Happy 30th |
My 40s were ushered in with a Sips n’ Strokes party. A limo picked up a few girlfriends and me for a night of wine and painting. Through the course of the evening, I had aspirations of being an artist, opening up a Sips n’ Strokes franchise, helping our limo driver, Byron, reconnect with his estranged brother, and, finally, making the room less spinny. You know what they say…you can’t paint in your 40s like you did in your 20s.
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| At least I didn't cut off my ear. |
My best birthdays, though, will always be the ones that include my favorite things: fruit tea, my favorite people, a walk at Radnor, quiet time in my soft clothes and a high-quality white cake with Breyer’s chocolate ice cream. When it comes down to it, I’m a simple girl.
Thank you in advance for the birthday messages on Facebook. I will respond to each and every one of them and say a prayer for you. If we’re friends on FB, I’ve prayed for you before, but know, as always, you’ll get a personal response tomorrow and a special prayer.
And, to know me is to love me and if you know and love me, you know I know and love animals. If you have some extra change in your pocket, please consider throwing it at Critter Calvary Rescue. They rescue pups from some of Tennessee's high-kill animal shelters and help find them their fur-ever homes. Because of them, we've had the honor of living with some of God's best angels right here on Earth.
https://www.crittercavalry.com/
And now…fruit tea. Cheers!
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| My first home. And my first ride. |
