by Mere

Created on: May 16, 2009

Tuesday, March 4, 1980-my 43rd birthday! As usual my husband made a big deal of my special day. He and our two children had been out shopping for days to find the perfect gifts for me. The evening was a lovely one with a nice dinner, a decorated birthday cake with candles, lovely gifts; the whole nine yards.

Turn the calendar to exactly one week later to Tuesday, March 11, 1980. Our husband and father did not come home for dinner. A fatal heart attack claimed his life late in the afternoon at his office.

For the next 14 years I dreaded my birthday every March. Despite the healing of my grief I continued to associate my birthday with the anniversary of my husband's sudden and untimely death. I hated my birthday.

In February, 1995 I had a change of heart. I was tired of having anxiety about my birthday year after year. I decided to do something different and special. I was going to give myself a birthday party.

Party plans began! Most conveniently the calendar revealed that March 4 was a Saturday. Reservations for a banquet room at a nice Mexican restaurant nearby were made for high noon on that day.

I was able to find some lovely stationery embellished with borders of pansies. The envelope was a bright sunshine yellow at its best. The invitation began with the words A celebration of cherished friendships, some old, some new. Please join the gathering. Of course, the usual time, place, date, etc. followed. I invited 31 friends and relatives to join me for lunch.

Only family members and close friends knew that it was to be a birthday party. To many the invitation was a mystery. Why was I having a gathering? Did I have some special news to share? Did I have a serious illness? Was I moving away from the area? After 15 years of being alone, had someone special come into my life? The questions went on and on.

Party day arrived. When we were all gathered together I thanked my family and friends for their response to my invitation. I shared with them the feelings of my heart and why I wanted to have this gathering. (It happened to be my 58th birthday. I told them I was 29 twice.)

That celebration with family and friends was a turning point in my life. From that day on I have had a different attitude about my birthdays. I no longer cringe at the thought of them. When I turned 70 I gave myself another party. That's another story!

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