Musings: My Day, My Way

Well, today is my birthday, which is always one of my favorite days, better than Christmas and all the other holidays, largely because when I was growing up, it was the only day I got things my way. When you’re one of seven kids, that’s a scenario that doesn’t occur unless it’s mandated by something as irrefutable as one’s day of birth.

We always got to choose what we wanted for dinner, and our favorite type of cake, which in my case was invariably chocolate, or occasionally my Mom surprised me with angel food with a pretty little doll — not a slutty one like Barbie — tucked into the hole in the middle of the cake, which was decorated to look like her dress.

And of course there were presents, although not a lot, because we didn’t have much money, but that was OK, because the best part of the whole affair was being singled out of the crowd of kids for attention, and my siblings were all much nicer to me than usual.

When I was 9, I made my own birthday cake — chocolate, and cut on the edge of my father’s bed, as he’d just been released from the hospital after suffering a massive heart attack. It’s the only childhood birthday that really stands out in my mind, and it started a tradition of making my own cake, which has continued, with few exceptions, up to the present and will most certainly be a part of today’s events. And it always includes candles and wishes.

On my birthday, I strive to do only things I enjoy, to a greater degree than usual, which is saying quite a lot, as I’ve endeavored all my life to avoid people, things and situations that don’t please me, with varying degrees of success. Life is not perfect, after all, even on one’s birthday, and like everything else, there have been bad and good ones over the years.

But today is already feeling like a good one, and I’m happy, like I generally am, fortunately, and tuned into the joy and beauty of life, and so not especially inclined to criticize any politicians or comment on human failings, although I was pleased to learn that Kauai cops don’t carry tasers, which is yet another reason to say lucky you live Kauai.

And I am lucky, and blessed, and I know it and I’m grateful. Mahalo ke Akua. Let the celebration of life continue!