I love birthdays–I always have and, hopefully, always will. Some birthdays pass more quietly than others, but they are still celebrated in some way, shape, or form. And while I know not everyone enjoys their birthdays, especially as the number of candles reaches conflagration-status, I like what Mom often says:
It’s better than the alternative!
Gallows humor, sure, but she has a point.
Todd, whose birthday it is today, is one of the non-celebrants. He doesn’t mind celebratingÂ other people’s birthdays, but prefers not to make a fuss over his own. So I will likely never throw him a surprise party, and only occasionally suggest we have a small get-together (usually a game night) on his birthday if it works out that way. Nothing big.
But he knows that I will always celebrate his birthday because I am incredibly grateful that he was born all those years ago. I will always get him a little something (usually something fun, since birthdays are not a time for practical gifts) and ask him what he’d like special for dinner (be it my cooking or going out–this year he chose going out with dessert at home). I will always get him multiple cards (at least 1 silly and 1 serious) and usually sing him Happy Birthday when we get up on his birthday morning.
Because he is the most important person in my life, and I think he’s worth celebrating. And he accepts my position on the matter.
In deference to his not wanting to make a fuss, I won’t post the umpteen reasons why I’m glad he was born, or the other umpteen reasons why I’m head-over-heels in love with him, suffice it to say I could and leave it at that.
Instead, I’ll just close with a heartfelt Happy Birthday, Honey!