Yesterday was my birthday. 66. I am grateful for every one of those years, and I look forward to adding more to the total.

All day, I was the happy recipient of well-wishes from friends and family, all wishing me something along the lines of . . .
a wonderful day
a chill day
a special day
a great day
a day filled with good things

But, truth be told . . . it kinda wasn’t.
And, further truth be told . . . my birthday OFTEN isn’t.

There is something . . . weird . . . about my particular birthday. I’m not sure what it is, exactly, but I think of it as a kind of . . . energy vortex or something. Because I tend to have very weird birthdays! Maybe it’s the winter-to-spring transition. Maybe it’s the end of the first quarter. Maybe it’s because I was a week early and wrecked the family’s big Easter dinner. (I was born the day after Easter, but my mom did have to interrupt the big family Easter dinner when her water broke; she was always somewhat mortified by this.). Who knows why . . . but I have had a lot of weird birthdays.

Some of it is actual newsworthy weirdness. President Reagan was shot on my birthday in 1981, for example, when I was working at a newspaper. (Lots of overtime that birthday. . . ) Donald Trump was indicted on my birthday in 2023. (Which wasn’t as weird as it was . . . about time.) Mostly, though, it’s just been regular life . . . acting up with a weird vibe on my birthday. Breaking (beyond repair) the very birthday gift I had just opened (age 16). Needing to “bribe” a AAA tow truck driver to drive us to the Denver airport when my car broke down on the highway (age 21). Preparing for, driving, or otherwise traveling for spring break with the kids (ages 36 – 51). Lots of big storms (featuring notable winter OR spring weather). Major dental work. Big events . . . the Oscars, Easter, The Final Four . . . all falling on my birthday regularly.

Here’s the funniest of my Weird Birthday Stories. . . Tom and I submitted paperwork to buy a house and pre-apply for a mortgage . . . on March 30, 1998. That’s a lot of paperwork to sign! And date. Turns out I had to go back and do it all again . . . because I dated each document with my birth date . . . instead of the actual date. (Habits. What can I say?) (The bank people were not amused.)

All this to say . . . I tend to have very low expectations on my birthday.

Yesterday, though, may take the “cake” for weird birthdays. To start things off, I sliced a chunk out of my finger the night before my birthday, and it was still bleeding when I woke up. (It’s much better and healing now, although typing this post is a challenge.) Then, Tom and I had some mild-ish stomach-y “thing” going on all day. (Also better now.) And . . . we got a call letting us know that Tom’s mom* had passed away the very morning of my birthday.

So.
Not a wonderful birthday.
Not a great or chill or special or filled with good things kind of day.
Just another weird birthday to add to my collection of weird birthdays.

On the other hand . . . I always welcome my birthdays. Weird or not!
I really do.
66. Here we go!

=====

*(Some of you know that my mother-in-law didn’t like me. At all. So this is – as my brother-in-law said – “twilight zone level” stuff . . . that my birthday and her date of death are now linked. Weird, I tell you.)