I was doing something of
Ok, so help me figure

Well, this weekend Spring arrived.

Well, this weekend Spring arrived. It even seemed like spring, warm and breezy. I actually put out some seeds in the garden – madness this early in the season. But I was buoyed by the warmth and the buds poking out on trees everywhere, so I threw caution to the wind and about $4.67 worth of seeds in the ground. Call me a madcap fool. Check back here for snow-related bitterness next month.
Anyhow.
Saturday was not only the first day of spring, it was my birthday. All you of the luv thang who are 32 had best get busy respecting me now. At 33 I am now your elder. And fortunately for you youngsters, I’m here to share the wisdom of my years.
Once upon a time in my looooooong life I heralded the arrival of my birthday loudly and insistently. Something like a car alarm outside your bedroom window. You know, the one that goes off for no reason and somehow wakes everyone EXCEPT the actual owner of the car who sleeps blissfully on, ignoring the honkhonkhonkhonk that is driving you absolutely mad?
Well, I was somewhat like that about my birthday. I would announce with glee March 1 that for joy for joy, my birth month had arrived. I would helpfully tally the shopping days. Not that I wanted anything, for if asked what I wanted for my birthday I would respond with a smile, “A fuss. I want a fuss for my birthday.”
But not this year. This year I held my tongue. Those who remembered and remarked on my birthday were answered with a curt, “I’m not doing my birthday this year.”
It’s not the aging thing. I don’t mind one bit being 33. I believe women in their 30’s are awfully cool. I would not be any other age. 33. The morning of my birthday I stood in my shower, practicing saying it. “I’m 33. What? Oh, I’m 33. No, I know I look too young to be the mother of all these kids, but no – I’m 33.” I liked it. It’s a good, solid age to be. I’ve never come upon my birthday and not found my new number appealing. It’s just as true now as it was when I was finally trading 7-and-a-half for 8.
So I don’t mind getting older, but there’s this shadow. See, Friday was my ex’s birthday. He’s 35. I assume. I mean, I suppose someone would tell me if he were dead, right?
If I loved being fussed over on my birthday, he loved fussing over me. In our years together he gave me three surprise birthday parties. And a surprise wedding shower and a baby shower. He loves parties.
I was spoiled I suppose. It’s hard now to really enjoy “my day.” It’s preceded by his day, and that makes me sad. I don’t know very much about his life, but I don’t think it’s very happy. I liked making him happy on his birthday. And no matter what I did, he tried to out do me the next day. He usually succeeded.
I’ve tried to celebrate March 20 like I used to since he’s been gone, but it never felt the same. I think I’d enjoy it more if I knew he was ok. But mostly I worry about him and feel sorry for myself, so this year I said forget it. I’m not doing it.
A few days ago an old friend called me to wish me a happy birthday. “I’m not doing my birthday anymore,” I replied.
“Tired of celebrating your 29th for the fourth time?” she joked.
“No.” I was irritated. Did she not know how cool 33 is? “It’s just not fun anymore. It just reminds me of him. So I’m done. I’ll get older, but I’m not having any more birthdays.”
“Oh.”
There was an awkward silence, and then we chatted for a while. But the conversation bothered me for a long time.
How ungrateful of me. How rude. She’d called to be kind and I’d used it as an opportunity to complain.
Ick.
So I’m sorry to everyone I’ve whined at. Thank you to everyone who kindly overlooked my complaining and wished me a happy birthday anyhow. Despite my self-centeredness it was a happy birthday. I had a picnic with my family yesterday, complete with roasted marshmallows. Today my friends let me share a birthday barbeque with Tracie (whose birthday was Wednesday), despite my bad attitude. I was even given gifts and cupcakes.
When will I learn, after all this time? There are the moments, the patches of pain that will come up. But life moves forward and I am so unbelievably, undeservedly blessed.
Thank you.

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