Four Birthdays and a Life Lesson

My birthday is at the end of this month. I turn fifty-six. Milestones like this always make me reflect. About time. About family. About life.

Many of my birthdays have been similar— celebrations including the typical cake, candles, presents, and the Happy Birthday song. But a few stand out, and when strung together, I’m beginning to draw some conclusions. Here’s what I mean:

Birthday Number One – the actual day of my birth

I obviously can’t reflect on this one. You’d have to ask my mom for the details. But the most interesting thing about my very first birthday (at least to me) is that one of my lifelong friends was born in the same hospital only twelve hours earlier.

Our families didn’t know each other then, but once she and I met in the sixth grade and compared birthdates and birthplaces, we liked to speculate that we slept right next to each other in the hospital nursery. That simple connection kept us close through high school and beyond, through the birth of our children, and through many of life’s ups and downs leading up to today.

Was our pairing a coincidence or fate? I like to believe we were destined to be friends from the very beginning, and I always look forward to our annual birthday phone calls or get-togethers.

Significant Birthday Number Two

This one wasn’t so happy. The year was 1990 and I was a newlywed—married only six weeks before turning twenty-four.

Since I’d grown up believing birthdays were a HUGE deal, I expected no less. I certainly didn’t envision poking a piñata with a stick until it gushed candy. Or playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey like we did “back in the day.” But flowers, balloons, or cake and ice cream were strong possibilities.

Our friend was getting married on the actual day of my birthday, so I assumed my husband and I would celebrate earlier in the week—perhaps over dinner at a favorite restaurant. Maybe he would surprise me with a nice gift. Nothing expensive since we were still paying off our wedding, but something thoughtful for sure.

Greeting cards started showing up in our mailbox. The phone rang more often than usual as friends and family called to wish me happy birthday. One of my girlfriends even brought me a small cake that sat front and center in our fridge. In other words, evidence of my upcoming birthday was everywhere.

So, imagine my surprise when the morning of my birthday came and went without a mention of it from my husband. Not one peep. He forgot! We were traveling to the wedding that afternoon and he was preoccupied. No excuse. I was pissed.

When I finally spoke up (which in retrospect, I should have done much earlier), he felt awful. We had one hell of an argument, barely spoke to each other at the wedding, and the ride home the next morning was mostly silent and tense. My mind went to the worst-case scenario—marriage to this guy would be awful if he couldn’t even remember my birthday in Year One.

Over time, I developed an understanding of his oversight. When people get married, they come with their own set of experiences, which leads to how expectations are set. Birthdays in my childhood home looked different than those in my husband’s house. Not better or worse, just different. Therefore, as an adult, they were less important to him than they were to me. Even now, when I ask him what he wants to do for his birthday, he typically shrugs and says, “whatever.”

Not me. I still want the cake, the candles, and the Happy Birthday song.

Significant Birthday Number Three

This was a good one. I was pregnant the year I turned thirty-two, due at the beginning of August. But our second child had different plans, deciding to arrive a full week early so she could share the same birthday with her mom.

I woke up to my water breaking, which was terrifying because I had no idea what was happening. I called my doctor’s office and was assured that there was plenty of time since I wasn’t having contractions yet. I didn’t listen, insisting instead that we go directly to the hospital as soon as my mother-in-law could arrive to take care of our toddler.

My husband sped through town, pausing once to point to the wrapped gift in the back seat.

“If you want your birthday present, you could open it now,” he said.

Yes, he had learned from his previous mistake and never forgot my birthday again.

Back to the baby. It’s a good thing I was impatient. Unlike the birth of our oldest daughter, this one went fast. By noon, we welcomed a new bundle of joy and she and I have enjoyed sharing the spotlight on our special day from that moment forward.

Significant Birthday Number Four—worst one ever

The year I turned forty, my husband announced that he was taking me to New York City for my birthday. I was beyond excited. I had always dreamed of going to New York, and since we had three young kids by then, I couldn’t wait for the two of us to get away.

Time alone together that year was especially critical. Our 16-year marriage had been starting to show signs of wear and tear. A weekend trip could be good for us. We looked forward to reconnecting over some good laughs, some sightseeing, and a few good meals. Hopefully, we could also carve out time to talk through the problems we were having before returning home to our active and all-consuming family life.

We started strong, taking a ferry around the Statue of Liberty, visiting the top of the Empire State Building, and enjoying an overpriced rickshaw ride through Central Park. But by the end of the weekend, we decided something was missing. Our marriage wasn’t working, and we needed to separate if our relationship could be salvaged.

I don’t mean to sound cavalier about this. I was devastated by that decision. But in retrospect, it ended up being the best option, ultimately allowing us to keep our family intact.

Living apart for almost a year, we put in the work. It was hard. Real hard. But we grew closer as we dug deep and worked through our issues, setting a valuable example for our kids and learning about the true meaning of love and forgiveness.

I don’t remember what we did on my 41st birthday. Whatever it was, it paled in comparison to the fact that we were back together again, living under the same roof once more with a renewed sense of commitment.

Life Lessons

Taken together, these four very different birthdays are chock full of lessons learned.

First, that girlfriend that I shared the infant nursery with, she’s always been there for me. When my marriage hit a rocky patch, she helped me through it and supported me as a true friend does. Whether we were destined to become best friends because of our proximity at birth or if that was mere happenstance, her presence in my life has taught me a lot about friendship and the importance of having people you can trust and rely upon when times get tough.

Speaking of people, shout out to my youngest daughter—the best birthday present I ever received! The fact that we share a birthday has been a continuous reminder that the most important gifts in life don’t come wrapped in a box (or a gift bag).

Whenever anyone asks what I want for my birthday now, I rarely respond with suggestions like a new top, a new purse, or a new anything else. My wish list consists of one simple thing—time spent with my loved ones.

Something else that dawns on me when I reflect on past birthdays is that happiness is not an outright gift. It takes work and requires effort. This includes paying attention to the wants and needs of the people around us while keeping our own expectations in check. As I like to remind my kids, “You get what you give.” The sooner we understand and accept that, the easier it is to see the upside of things.

I’m not sure if my musings here are making any sense to anyone else but me. So, I’ll leave you with at least one concrete piece of advice. If you’ve never seen Four Weddings and a Funeral, I highly recommend that you do. It’s one of the best romcoms of its time, exploring things like friendship, love, commitment, and timing much better than I ever could.