The last piece of ice cream was eaten so that means another birthday celebration has concluded for me. According to research conducted at Harvard University, September 16 is the most common birthday in the calendar year. The least common is December 25 (other than February 29 which of course occurs only every four years). If you had asked me to speculate I would have guessed a day in June to be the most popular.
When I was in elementary school it seemed like most of my friends had birthdays the same month I did--June. In a month that was already exciting-field trips, track meets, last month before summer vacation-we also had several birthday parties to look forward to. On the day of a party we endured the agonizingly slow movement of the hands on the clock as it seemed to know what was in store for us and so deliberately moved at a snail's place. The anticipation was practically unendurable. But once the final bell rang the celebration began. I remember those June parties; running through sprinklers, scavenger hunts in backyards, roasting marshmallows over fires, and when we moved to a city some highly anticipated swimming pool parties.
Last week an Ohio woman turned 100. When asked how she wanted to celebrate the day she said she wanted to do some yard work and smell fresh-cut grass. The grounds crew at Bowling Green State University helped make her wish come true. She spent time behind one of the school's mowers and then helped plant flowers near the student union centre. When a Texas woman turned 100 in May she requested an Elvis impersonator and a meal featuring chicken and dumplings and black-eyed peas. At her party she signed a copy of a book containing stories she had written for family and friends.
A centenarian in Manchester returned to school to celebrate her and the school's birthday and she talked about the privilege of having received an education. A woman in Abbotsford wanted to spend her day with family and friends at her care home proudly showing off the message she had received from The Queen. Margaret Wachs meanwhile didn't want a party. On her 100th she went for a mile swim instead.
We all attend several birthday parties every year for family, friends or co-workers. They are special events, yet ones that don't typically garner media attention. However when someone turns 100 there is something so compelling about that milestone that a reporter is dispatched and pictures and quotes are gathered. But being 99 years 364 days is just as special; so is 95 years 206 days; and 82 years 11 days; 44 years and one day; and so on. No, a reporter won't show up. There may not be cake. Friends won't drop off presents but the day should celebrated nonetheless, by each one of us, who have been given that day.
We spend a lot of time living in anticipation of events. We can't wait for days off or the end of a big project and the freeing up of some time. We await the upcoming family reunion, the next winter vacation, the ending of one season as it ushers in another. This is all good. It is great to anticipate all that is ahead of us. It is just as important though to cherish each and every day that leads up to whatever it is we are most looking forward to.
A woman who turned 100 in May wanted a fairly low key event since she wasn't sure what other things might be taking place that same day. As a community volunteer for most of her life (she was still delivering Meals on Wheels at the age of 93) she didn't want to plan anything that would interfere with the normal events of her day. In the end she squeezed in a game of bingo with some friends.
We should be thankful for the things we have to look forward to, but we need to recognize the preciousness of what isright now. So don't wait for a birthday to acknowledge the specialness of the day. Get out there and plant flowers, breathe in the smell of freshly mown lawn, learn something new, play a game, write a poem, and hug someone you love.
A birthday is a day to celebrate. So is a Tuesday, a Wednesday, a work day, a holiday, a sunny day, a rainy dayand, most of alltoday. That's my outlook.
