From the film, “Sixteen Candles”

I had a birthday recently.   I’ve always disliked birthdays,  since my teen years.  My parents always made my birthday special as a child, not with lavish parties and gifts, but with special birthday dinners, cake and small gifts, except for the year I got a new piano.  That was the best day ever, but I digress . . .

There’s nothing better than seeing a piano moving truck pull up to your house. Wait, is that Just Me ?

The bad birthdays started in my teen years when came down with Scarlet Fever on my birthday.  I know it sounds very Victorian, but I assure you I’m not that old.

I didn’t have The Spanish Flu, like Downton Abbey’s Her Ladyship, but Scarlet Fever was no joke.

In later years my boyfriend (later husband, now ex-husband) forgot my birthday completely, more than once.  I’ve never had the party with the girlfriends kind of birthdays either, for a lot a reasons, beyond the scope of this post.  And then there was the first birthday right after the wedding, the separation and some bad ones since then.

This year I decided to pretty much ignore my birthday.  I couldn’t really do anything because it coincided with one of my kid’s big events . . . so I just let it go.

But the people who have come in and out of my life over the years, many of whom I have written about here, remembered.

1.  My best friend and her husband stopped by with a musical card (hours of fun), a little cake, and a big gift card for me.   They didn’t stay very long, but I appreciated the thought and the gifts more than they know.

See my tribute to her on “To My Best Friend on Mother’s Day”

2.   One of my married male friends sent me a text, hoping he got the date right.  (He didn’t, but that didn’t matter.) He wished me well and told me I don’t look my age.  This guy has done things for me like shown up with an air conditioner and installed it when my house was making us melt and he repaired a pane of glass after my daughter decided to play ball in the family room.  And most importantly, he checks in on me just to see how I’m doing.

He’s one of the men I was thinking of in “Friends Without Benefits — Married Men.”

3.  My Admirer sent me a Happy Birthday text, and when I thanked him for remembering he replied,  “You are a smart and beautiful woman whose inner beauty radiates so brightly.  I won’t forget you.”

It made me smile.  I haven’t seen or talked to this man in years.

For my posts about him see,   “I Have An Admirer” and “Another Text From My Admirer.”

4.  An old friend, who defies any  type of categorization, wished me Happy Birthday via voice mail; I was at my kid’s event and couldn’t answer my phone.  I saved the message.

I’ve referenced him in, “We Thought You Were Dead, Mommy.”

5.  I even got a birthday text from my Stalker.  I did not respond.

See, “If I’d Married My Stalker.”

It feels good to be remembered, thought of.

Well, the Stalker text is a little disconcerting, but still  . . .

Just Me With . . . people. 

And even though I’m all grown up, my parents called and sang to me (a family tradition) and my Mom gave me a card with money in it.

. . . and the quirky child gave me a card and a CD.

Not bad.