When the day is set aside to celebrate you.
And you're not too sure how you feel about that.
When you think that maybe you'd rather just skip it altogether. Just treat it like another ordinary day. Because life has a way of making special days fill up with tears. Tears that you're sure you'd rather not cry.
But then, on your doorstep around 7:30 a. m., arrive friends and smiles and thoughtfulness and gifts. Just to leave happy birthday at your door.
Then those sleepy boys come down and they say happy birthday, too, first thing. And they're happy about you and their happy about this day, round with expectancy. And you bake them breakfast and they eat, all loud and playful and fun.
You get dressed and put sparkles in your hair. Cut stones clipped there among the curls. No matter what, you're going to sparkle today. Yes, you will.
You pile onto the couch with those boys; the library bag, straining with books, pulled close. You read aloud new ones you've never read before. (The hands-down boy favorite is the one about the bathing-in-the-river cowboy, the dog, the shredded clothes, and the walking home naked, save for boots and cowboy hat!)
Then friends begin messaging as the time zones awaken, from the east coast to Alaska. That stock of good friends all waving and smiling at you. He texts love, too, that man of yours, from wherever he is, before he takes off for his next destination.
Music surrounds you as you go about the day, baking in your kitchen, swaying with soulful music on Pandora. Then, one trip outside to snip some herbs, and it's 80's hair bands rippin' when you come back in. Hmm. That oldest boy glances sideways at you with a smirk on his face. Gosh, you love that kid. You chop and stir, rockin' to Guns n' Roses.
Down to the antique store on Main Street the four of you go. To show them a few things that catch your eye. Well, I do like this old clock, you say. Oh, that's really cool. And this, too. Then, you sit out front on a bench, waiting for those boys inside. Soon, out they come carrying smiles and three gift bags. You try not to notice the tick-tock sound coming from the middle boy's bag.
The evening comes, and a boy digs up candles. Lots of candles, he finds, and sets them out all over. Milk in wine glasses to go with our shrimp scampi. Before you take that first bite, one boy bows in grace, then another boy does, and another. Each voice speaking thanks for the Mama he has.
And gracious, that lemon tart! A birthday desert that wraps you up in wonderful? Yes. Oh my, yes!
Then. The gifts. So small and so big and so, so perfect.
Ah, this life. It sure has a way of making special days fill up with love. Indeed, it was a happy birthday!