on birthdays.
one day, about twenty years ago to the day, two people i love very much carried a lively bundle of pink flesh (one that, i have on good authority, cried to echo the scream of the seagull)home to a house full of boxes and a slightly jealous, almost two year old, blond headed tyrant of a brother. they loved her, challenged her, prayed for her, inspired her, and even provided her with another, this time brown haired and female, sibling to torment her, shower her with blessings, and prevent her, by portraying a visage always more beautiful than the one in the mirror, from ever becoming too vain. they dragged her around the country (with her and her rambunctious siblings' consent of course), watched her grow and change, embracing the world with all its beauty and heartache.
and now, twenty years later, i sit and eat left over birthday cake. i want to reflect on the meaning of my particular yesterday, contemplate the complexity of moving from teens to twenties, give a somewhat anecdotal account of my time, or at least my past year, but find myself filled with too much of the fuzzy-love-filled feeling to adequately analyze the occasion. and maybe that is the point of birthdays. to remind us, each one individually, that we are loved: that the time we pass living has been meaningful to others.
there is a tradition in my family that we listen to a certain satirical arrogant worms song to mark this auspicious day. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ACUjMNDSrgY) as i looked through the wonderful facebook posts and heartfelt emails from loved ones, i found myself coerced, for traditions sake, into repeated listenings, but i was not satisfied. there is another birthday song from my childhood that seems to more accurately capture and portray my emotions surrounding yesterday, my "auspicious" 20th birthday.
The modified chorus from "Gens du pays", the unofficial Quebecois anthem, has been playing on repeat (in my head), much the way it rang through my french immersion classroom 15, 14, and 13 years ago, since sometime yesterday.
"Ma chère Bekah, c'est à ton tour
De te laisser parler d'amour."
(translation: my dear Bekah, it is your time to let yourself talk about love)
And hence, this is a thank you, to the collective body of people who love me, to those who wrote facebook notes, emails or ecards, who made expensive long distance phone calls, who took time out of their day to come celebrate with me, eat cake and play settlers, who thought and prayed for me, and even those who missed the day but i know still love me from the depths of their heart regardless. thank you for wishing me a happy birthday, et de me laisser une chance pour parler d'amour.
i like the fuzzy-love-filled feeling.
and now, twenty years later, i sit and eat left over birthday cake. i want to reflect on the meaning of my particular yesterday, contemplate the complexity of moving from teens to twenties, give a somewhat anecdotal account of my time, or at least my past year, but find myself filled with too much of the fuzzy-love-filled feeling to adequately analyze the occasion. and maybe that is the point of birthdays. to remind us, each one individually, that we are loved: that the time we pass living has been meaningful to others.
there is a tradition in my family that we listen to a certain satirical arrogant worms song to mark this auspicious day. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ACUjMNDSrgY) as i looked through the wonderful facebook posts and heartfelt emails from loved ones, i found myself coerced, for traditions sake, into repeated listenings, but i was not satisfied. there is another birthday song from my childhood that seems to more accurately capture and portray my emotions surrounding yesterday, my "auspicious" 20th birthday.
The modified chorus from "Gens du pays", the unofficial Quebecois anthem, has been playing on repeat (in my head), much the way it rang through my french immersion classroom 15, 14, and 13 years ago, since sometime yesterday.
"Ma chère Bekah, c'est à ton tour
De te laisser parler d'amour."
(translation: my dear Bekah, it is your time to let yourself talk about love)
And hence, this is a thank you, to the collective body of people who love me, to those who wrote facebook notes, emails or ecards, who made expensive long distance phone calls, who took time out of their day to come celebrate with me, eat cake and play settlers, who thought and prayed for me, and even those who missed the day but i know still love me from the depths of their heart regardless. thank you for wishing me a happy birthday, et de me laisser une chance pour parler d'amour.
i like the fuzzy-love-filled feeling.
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