In about eight hours, something different will happen.
Not completely different, just different.
For the first time in 20 years, I’ll be alone on my birthday. I have a ritual where I wake up and yell, “It’s my birfday! It’s myyyy birfday!” and then I break into song. Thank goodness the neighbours have moved out.
But no one will smile and say, “Yes, it is,” and then serve me breakfast in bed. And then lunch. And make me dinner. My birthday’s tend to revolve around food. I won’t go to Hecla or Hnausa dock for a photoshoot. Or have a scavenger hunt around the house or mall . Which I found rather stressful. If I owned last year’s birthday, I’m grasping this year’s like a cuddly teddy bear.
But some things never change.
Continue reading “Owning Your Birthday When You’re Alone”
Tammy W. Karatchuk 