Celebrating with friends: the best birthday gift I could ask for

I turned 59 a week ago. 59. Feisty 59. Fabulous 59. Fierce 59.

No matter how I spin it, 59 is, well, 59. Not good, not bad. Not a milestone. Not an accomplishment except, this year, it was. This year I did something a little different. This year, I celebrated.

One of my heart sisters asked what I was doing to mark my day. She had the day off and offered to spend it with me if I wanted to do something. I haven’t celebrated my birthday since My Favourite Husband (MFH) died. Even before he did, our birthday celebrations were low key. Did I want to do something — anything — this year? Or simply continue to let the day slide under the radar.

Where am I in my life? Am I ready to do something for my birthday? Am I ready to celebrate and welcome being 59 — the age MFH was when he died? Because really, that’s what it’s about: acknowledging the number of spins around the sun MFH had before his heart stopped beating. Superstitious, silly to think this might be my last year. Foolish to not acknowledge that it might be. I’m not in charge.

I’d like to say I properly reflected and chose what I’d do with caution and care for my heart but I didn’t. I was bored thinking and overthinking so I impulsively decided to throw myself a party. Not a shaker by any means but a few close friends — women I connect with, bond with, whose lives I’m grateful to be a part of. And before I could chicken out, I organized a social media chat group with a casual invite: bring yourselves and your favourite beverage and come visit. For the few not on social media, I sent text messages. I didn’t ask for RSVPs. Whoever came, came. 

The day of the party, I cleaned and bought food and basically calmed my anxiety down. I shouldn’t be nervous. I know each one of the ladies invited, am friends with each of the ladies invited. But throwing myself a party is something I haven’t done before so, even though I curated the guest list, I was still nervous.

Of course, it was wonderful. Women from different parts of my life meeting each other. Friends new and old connecting. Faces to names. I loved it. About a dozen women in my tiny home sharing. All the love, all the laughter and I was the common link.

I thought a lot about it the next day — about karma, about how what you put out into the world is what you get back. I thought about how I consider myself to be an insignificant cog in the life wheels of others, about how what I do doesn’t have a huge impact. I didn’t think about any of this in a woe-is-me way but in a 'I’m just a fleck in the universe way.' But when I paused my thoughts, I realized I was wrong. So wrong. Because karma gifted me friends and family who love me. And they are in my life because of what I try and put out into the world on a continual basis. Which means what I do matters. It matters because I’m reaping what I sow. 

I’m not sure what’s in store for me this year. Life being life means there will be challenges and celebrations; teaching and lessons. There will be smiles and tears. 

But through it all will be the strong arms of the people I love and who love me to catch me when I stumble, hold me when I cry and hug me hard when I celebrate.

This is the reason to celebrate. This is the best birthday gift of all.