I receive peanut M&Ms for my birthday every year. My mother, a sympathetic chocolate lover, started giving them to me a long time ago and has kept up the tradition even as I've moved away. Somehow it's even better now that I'm not home for my birthdays.
This has been my fourth birthday away from home. The first one was very strange. Birthdays in my family aren't celebrated by inviting a bunch of people over to party, they are celebrated with a family dinner, cake & ice cream, and present opening--in that order. Presents are never opened before dinner! Between dessert and presents someone always says, "Well, I guess it's time to take out the trash," and we pretend for a moment that there aren't any presents for the birthday person. I realize now that this takes the focus of the birthday off of the gifts, and on the person, and the givers. I always felt extra good on my birthdays. It was easy to be sweet to my siblings because they were all sweet to me. There was no demanding attention and favors (i.e. the doing of my chores), they were lovingly, freely given and gratefully received.
My first birthday away from home was a very special experience. I was out late and when I got home my wonderful roommate had made a cake on which she had piped "Happy Birthday, Abby!" and left it out on the kitchen table with a bunch of flowers and her gift to me. A few days later I was taken out to dinner with a group of good friends, then we went back to someone's house and had cake and sangria that one of them had made for me. The next weekend my family visited and the birthday celebrations continued.
My first birthday out of the country was also very special. Birthdays are a big deal here in the Netherlands! When I walked into the house that morning all three girls sang three different birthday songs to me, and I was given my gifts (chocolate!) and told to open them immediately (the girls aren't big on patience).
This year is much more low-key. I didn't remind them it was my birthday until it happened to come up in conversation. In a couple weeks I'll go out to dinner with a couple with whom I've become very good friends.
I don't really have a point to this post. I suppose I've just been reflecting on how birthdays have changed for me over the years. Each year I think, "Well, it's not a big deal," but something happens and I end up feeling exceedingly loved by the people around me.
