Happy Birthday Blues

Happy Birthday Blues

In and out and on and on
Everybody goes
And where the fun with finally stops
Everybody knows
Girls it's me and you
Doing what we do
Just one way to lose
Those happy birthday blues

B.B. King, 1979

Tomorrow is my birthday…and I have the blues.

I don’t hate my birthday, but I never liked it very much as a child. It wasn’t until Jim came along that birthdays became special.

Being born in December is challenging for a kid. People tell you “oh…we didn’t make a big deal about your birthday because Christmas is coming up and that will be really special for you.”

Well….NO.

My birthday was special to ME.

I was another year older. Typically, I was at least half an inch taller than the year before. (Although, Mom does go on about the year I grew 4 inches from September to April.) And, certainly I was more mature. More grown up. All of my friends had big parties with a houseful of kids and presents. (OK…maybe not more mature…I admit it…I was jealous)

What I got was “we’ll just do this low-key” this year. And a card with $5 inside - $2 until I turned 10. (Although, I do recall that when I turned 16 I remember feeling very grown up when my mom’s sister giving me a beautiful crystal necklace that I passed on to my daughter at her 16th.)

Sharing the month with my 4 years and 10 days younger sister’s birthday, we often had joint parties…which by my early teen years truly sucked having to share with “little kids” as part of the party.

Humbug.

I’m whining here and I know it. But, that’s what happens when you get the birthday blues.

What I really wanted as a child (and a young teen) was a CELEBRATION. Something really fine that said “you are SPECIAL and we are so glad you are our daughter”.

But, the truth is that I wasn’t born into that kind of family nor did we have that kind of money. Birthdays were low-key because money was tight and my mother and dad thought Christmas was more important. (Not that we observed a particularly religious form of the holiday being semi-heathen and all.)

Hallmark birthdays…13, 16, 18, 21 were marked much the same as any other birthday my sister and I celebrated. (Well…21 was spectacular in that I had the mumps for the third time in my life on that birthday. That one definitely sticks out.)

As I got older, I didn’t…and don’t…mind birthdays being low-key. In fact, I prefer them that way. I’ve never fretted over turning 30, 40, 50. And that, in part, is due to my childhood. So, it’s not all bad.

Turning 55 is no big emotional deal. Anything that gets you a discount at some restaurants and drug stores can’t be all bad.

Other than being widowed, I have quite enjoyed these early 50’s. I’m old enough that I don’t care what the younger generation…or many others for that matter…think of my way of life. There are a few aches and pains, a certain dimming of the memory. And, we won’t even discuss my wrinkles, gray hair and ample caboose. Yet…all in all, I feel good and I don’t mind being the age I am. (Mentally, I’m much younger anyway…just a kid, in fact.)

Still…birthdays without Jim are anticlimactic. There were but 6 days between our ages and birthdays and usually celebrated the closest weekend between. We were together from our 19th birthdays through our 51st…all of our adult lives. I miss him and miss going to that special restaurant with the melt in your mouth steaks and prime rib. I miss the little nothing gifts that were, nonetheless, special for having remembered a thing mentioned months before. I miss snuggling next him on the couch with a cup of coffee examining the previous year and our hopes for the next. I miss the handmade cards our children gave us during their growing up and no money of their own years. I miss life the way it was back then. Frankly…I miss the me that was up until 3 ½ years ago.

Yet…the Handyman is a special gift in this second life. I know that as we spend more birthdays together I will develop the same sense of comfort in sharing them with him. He is a good and gentle man who loves me deeply and I know I am blessed that we found each other.

We will make new memories to add to those precious ones of the past. We will make a new restaurant our special birthday place. We’ll share those special little nothing birthday gifts with each other. (I’m listening to the early gift of the Celtic Woman CD he surprised me with as I write this.) And, we can snuggle on the couch reflecting the year just past and those we hope to have.

But…I still have the birthday blues.