I am unsure which of my birthdays is my most memorable. My memory isn’t the best. At best, I have mere glimpses – snippets of birthdays past.
I don’t remember, but know from photographs that I had at least one McDonalds party as a child. One such photo shows me standing on a chair in my best dress and pigtails, surrounded by smiling friends and relatives as I prepare to blow the candles. A stranger would swear blind that it was my daughter standing there, so much alike do we look.
I know, but do not remember, that I had at least one birthday party at home as a child. Another photograph of my younger self standing on a chair surrounded by friends and relatives, preparing to blow out the candles. This time, my mother tells me, it was a special princess cake I had been begging for.
I do not remember the party, but I do remember the home. I remember that the yard seemed so huge to my tiny self. I remember there was a giant tree at right up the back of the yard and it was near this tree that my monkey bars were located. I remember the giant circle of concrete which marked our septic tank. I remember riding my solid metal blue scooter around the side of the house and along the drive. I remember being friends with the neighbour’s children. I loved that house.
I remember another birthday, years later in another home. I had some friends over and we were playing a game. We had glass pill bottles on the floor in front of us and we had to push them to the other side of the room using only our noses without making the pills rattle.
I recall being very excited on my thirteenth birthday because my cousin gave me some pictures I was hankering after and my brother gave me my very first real watch.
I remember that my sweet sixteen was a special event with a jukebox and dome cake and loads of friends to celebrate. I remember that my boyfriend (now my husband) had a delicious cake made especially for my eighteenth birthday party. This was also the occasion when my mother got to meet his for the first time.
I remember several birthdays when my husband went all out to ensure I had a special day.
I may not be able to remember my most memorable birthday but, one thing I do know – no matter how poor we are, no matter how busy, no matter what else is happening in our lives, my husband has never failed to remember my birthday and make me feel like a queen. And, as long as my husband and children are here to share them with me, my birthdays will always be happy ones.
- Planning a Successful First Birthday Party for Your Child (parenting.answers.com)
- Novel Ways to Celebrate Birthdays With Birthday Party Package (funkymonkeysuaeplay.wordpress.com)
- Grace, gratitude, and birthday parties (scienceandstory.wordpress.com)
- The Non-Domestic Mom’s Guide to Hosting a Kid’s Birthday Party (blogher.com)
- The Birthday Party (aspergals.wordpress.com)