Yeap, yesterday was it. The day children look forward to, women dread and men just want it over and done with. The day my life began, all 29 years ago. Well, lemme see, Natasha Henstridge of Species fame shares the same date, so does Ben Affleck - not that I care - and Japan surrendered, ending World War 2. Oh, and Elvis died within hours of my birth.
I was working on my birthday though, I hadn't planned for anything special to mark the day, neither had my wife. Just a simple dinner at Secret Recipe at IMM, after which we went marketing for some necessities. Not the ideal birthday to some, but it does it for me. For the past few years, especially since starting work and getting married, birthdays doesn't seem that important to me anymore. I mean, besides being the day we were born, there's nothing else to suggest that it is a special day. I mean, the sun was still shining, birds still chirping and I still had a job to do.
I had always wondered what's there to celebrate in the first place. Is it to celebrate the past or to celebrate the future? Should I be joyous over the past 29 years or joyous for the years to come? I thought to myself, have I done anything in the past year to be joyous about? Is there anything that I am anticipating that would make my life a whole lot better? On all accounts, I'd have to say a conservative no. Besides getting my car, going on 4 trips up north and patching up after the big fight, nothing really happened that would have been a major cause of celebration. I lived my life, did what I should, and that was it.
We all have our own way to mark our special day, the day we saw the light. Some go on a cruise or holidays, some pamper themselves with fine dining, others have a wild night out and hope to wake up without regrets, others offer prayers and some just treat it like any normal day. I prefer the last option, it's a lot less complicated. On days such as theses, the adage, "It's the thought that counts", seems to ring so much truer. My best bud sent me an SMS, a rather long one at that, wishing me all the happiness, and that meant a lot to me. It doesn't matter how many people remember your birthday, but who does, matters a lot. Thanks bro.
Personally, I don't dread my birthday, neither do I loathe it. It serves as a reminder for me that time doesn't wait for me and that, in spite of what has happened, life goes on. I haven't had a birthday party in 2 decades, no birthday cakes since I was 10 or 11 and , though I do get the small gifts from my family every year, there hasn't been a celebration of my birthday in years. Just the birthday wishes from my mom on the morning of my birthday, every year, without fail. Mom called me at 6am to wish me a happy birthday and asked what I wanted for lunch. She'd normally whip up a succulent meal on special days, I just said, it's ok, just cook as you would on any other days. I think I've lost the zeal to celebrate my own birthday.
Mom and Dad asked me what I wanted for my birthday. For once, I was stumped, I hadn't thought about it and had no idea what I would like. In previous years, I would have plumped for an MP3 player or a new HD LCD TV, this time, I just said "nothing". Yeah, I know was hell-bent on upgrading the sound system in my car and was pretty upset at how things panned out then, I've grown to realise that there is much more to life than material posessions - I knew that, I just lost track of it. Every now and then, we all need that kick up the butt or that slap in the face just to remind us of how good we have it.
I guess 15th of August was my time.
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