My Birthday Wish

One of the signs of passing youth is the birth of a sense of fellowship with other human beings as we take our place among them.
Virginia Woolf

I'm not a fan of my own birthday. It's not that I mind growing older, in fact I wouldn't turn back the clock for all the Sketchers in Kohl's. It's that my only birthday wish is for it to pass minus pomp and circumstance. Quiet. Unobtrusive. For someone who wants to speak to multitudes and be read by millions I really want to be ignored as much as possible. I'm a freak, I know.
My family, friends and loved ones, however, refuse to honor my birthday wish. They, in fact, start celebrating approximately a week early by kicking off with a birthday cake on Easter. I hope Jesus doesn't mind.
Cards and such continue until the big day which always includes an early morning phone call from my dad. My husband plans for dinner out. I just knuckle down and wait for it to pass, begging those who say they love me to just let it go.
Today was no different. Early morning phone call and e mail from the parents. Hugs and kisses from the Mr. (always welcome). More e mails. More cards in the mail.
I worked today and my co-workers, under the influence of our psychologist, spent eight hours pelting me with those little metallic "happy birthday" things you decorate tables with and calling them birthday wishes.
Several paranoid schizophrenics wished me happy birthday leading me to believe that either they really do have super powers or someone was tipping them off.
My sister, the professional registered nurse who works a few floors over from me gets the prize for ignoring my birthday wish. Our hospital uses a pneumatic tube system like a bank drive-through. While passing out medications I was brought several deliveries with home made "happy birthday, love Amy" cards. I received a fleet's enema, perineal wash, a truss, a posey restraint vest, feminine products, a New Testament and some Swedish Fish candies. Hospital shopping is a challenge.
The only one who really honored my wish was my son Mac, who insisted my birthday was tomorrow because today is the 23rd. This being wrong as today (writing this on Tuesday) was the 25th and my birthday isn't the 24th. Apparently he's still on Mexico time or something.
I'm learning, with text messages, gifts of enemas and early morning phone calls to just take it in stride. It's 24 hours long. I smile and wait for it to pass.
I also realized something, I am loved. Whether I want to celebrate out loud or quietly nobody really cares. Because I don't belong to myself. I'm part of a greater whole...of a family and a marriage and a circle of friends. I'm thankful finally, to be celebrated.
I looked in my rearview mirror today and thought "you're ok for an old chick". And I felt God's answer, "You are finally learning that the beauty of life is love, and you are loved. That's why no one grants your birthday wish."
So I have a new birthday wish, let me love the way I'm loved.
And on your birthday, there will be a Fleet's enema with your name on it.
Thanks, for celebrating me.