Today is my birthday. 41 years ago in a the city of Los Angeles, only a few miles from the beach, a hop, skip and a jump from the walk of fame and into the loving arms of Donald and Mary Hanson, I was born.
I am the oldest child, the first born. I basked in the sole attention of my parents for three long years (that I have no recollection of) before I was promoted to the role of older sister by my brother, Marc, whom I tortured mercilessly. I made him play dolls, dress up and generally bossed him around until I reached the non tender preteen years. Then I promptly decided that I didn’t want anything to do with him. My sincerest apologies to my brother, Marc. Please forgive me for all former eye rolls, slights, sarcastic remarks and hen pecking that you suffered at my hand. I was a horrid older sibling and am doing penance for the prejudice I harbored (that girls ruled and boys drooled) as I am currently surrounded by the sights, smells and sounds of preteen boys 24/7.
I flew out of the home nest when I was a young 18 years old and married the love of my life when I was an ancient 23 year old. I was made a mother twice, first when I was 28 years and then again 2 months shy of being 30 years old. It is still too soon to offer apologies to my husband and children. It will take a few more years to clearly see all the ways I have fallen short and you are just going to have to wait.
Today, I am celebrating more than my birthday- I am celebrating all the things that have been born since that day. The love, the dreams, the friendships, the adventures, the heartaches, the children, the sorrow, the growing, the doing, the being.
Something new is being born in me today. I am filled with a giddy excitement of what is to come. There is a feeling of a release and energizing momentum gathering beneath the surface. Being the contemplative creature I am, I am watching it with eyes of delight and wonder.
Yes, today is a birth day… In more ways than one.
What a happy day indeed.