I wasn’t around consciously when I was born so I don’t have anything but my Mom’s stories about labor to compare an actual birthday to. But somebody got an idea we should celebrate that day every year and so here we are. I don’t come from a big family so I don’t have very many specific memories. My first 12 or so were just me and my mom and my dad. After that a few friends trickled over but there was never any big to-do so that’s why I have this love hate relationship with birthday events. I think my first favorite birthday memory was being in Detroit in the middle of the biggest snow storm ever (and that’s big for Detroit) and I didn’t have much to do but sit in my room and listen to the local public radio jazz station. I had my very own stereo (thanks Mom and Rent-A-Center) and I called in and dedicated a John Coltrane tune to myself. After that I remember my first date at 16 and we went to Red Lobster. If only the relationship stayed that sweet. After that, birthdays have been a bit uncomfortable for me. On one hand, I want the fanfare but on the other I don’t want it because I really don’t know how to handle it. Or how you’re supposed to be about it.  I’m not really extrovert though I can talk a lot in general so there’s a lot of dual roles playing here. I think I’ll be more comfortable by just ending this with acknowledging that my dad’s birthday is in ten days and I will be warm and fuzzy on that day instead of the tear fest (I’m creative visualizing).  Today I’ll also say that my heart is really full of love and light for all of those close to me and those far away (Haiti, keep your souls up! The world sends you action prayers) and that’s what I think birthdays should really be about. Love inventory.

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