My Birthday

TL;DR: From age eleven onward I didn’t throw birthday parties. During Claudia’s long illness there was no room for celebration, and after she died there was no one to celebrate with. Written the day before I turned 52, this is about reaching back out to the universe and letting a birthday matter again.

When she passed away, I was extraordinarily sad, and I started reaching out to the universe around me. I quickly discovered the renaissance faire and belly dance communities, and before very long there were people in my life again.

Learning to celebrate again

Six years ago I, for the first time in decades, threw myself a party. I invited lots of friends to a small pirate shop, and even put together a lineup of 8 dancers.

You see, the shock of watching my late wife die for over ten years, and then breathing her last breath as her life force left her, caused me to realize that life comes to an end someday. It’s the only thing in this world that we’ll all, regardless of age or social class, are promised and will absolutely receive.

Thus, I now celebrate each new year of life with as much gusto as possible. Birthdays have become a very happy event, and my celebration goes on for a few days.

This year I’ve allocated the whole week, starting from November 3rh and completing on November 11th, to celebration my 52nd year on this planet.

I’m throwing two large parties, large for me, and I’ve invited some of my very favorite people and best friends to perform.

I’ve rediscovered friendship, and I’ve rediscovered that life is worth living for its own sake, thanks to my friends in the belly dance and faire communities. I owe them all more than they can know for their willingness to be, in greater or lessor degree, my friend.

Thank you all for allowing me to be part of your life these past years, and thank you for another year of friendship.