When I approached 50, my husband was more terrified than I was. To add insult to injury, both my parents died within six months of each other, and 50 was knocking on my door. Losing both of them reminded me of two things: life is fragile — and it is a gift. So I lived. In fact, for my 50th birthday, I lived my best life on a pair of roller skates, jamming to “Come on Eileen” (cue the Dexys Midnight Runners). And when all was said and done, I not only survived but thrived and turned 50. Candles were blown out, and I realized that many of my wishes had come true … It was a reminder of the importance of moments over milestones.
Though my 50th birthday caused a bit of distress, celebrating my child’s birthday has (mostly) been pure joy. Year after year … the excitement of presents, and cake, and parties … themes and special places to celebrate. And so, as my daughter moves from childhood to adulthood, I’m still choosing to invest in the magical moments for each milestone.
Paying attention to the joys in the journey, last Friday I had the privilege of sitting around a table with my daughter and nine of her friends. My daughter — now a young adult — confidently walked into a restaurant, hair curled, dressed in her favorite jeans and a stylish red shirt. Instead of a little girl wound up by too much sugar, I watched a sophisticated young lady smile, listen, and laugh. I felt the quiet heartache of realizing she is spreading her wings and taking flight. I am watching her become herself.
I watched a table of young adults carry on real conversation, phones mostly forgotten — except for a few selfies to capture a moment that will one day feel like a memory from “the good old days.”
As dinner finished up, the waitress brought out a piece of decadent cheesecake. On top, one candle glowed, and then the singing began. My daughter’s friends were joined by strangers who recognized this milestone moment and jumped in to sing, instantly becoming part of the celebration.
And as the energy began to fade, I brought out the goodie bags. Filled with candies and a few other college essentials (breakfast bars, HotHands for keeping them warm as they trek across campus), they giggled when they each received a birthday bag. I wasn’t the only one who was excited by this small token to say thank you and celebrate my birthday girl. She and her friends didn’t need goodie bags at 19. But maybe I did — a small reminder that growing up doesn’t mean growing out of joy.
As our weekend of celebrating came to a close, it was a reminder that birthdays aren’t terrifying or terrific. Instead, maybe they are simply invitations to pay attention to the moments that matter. As she grows forward, I grow older — and somehow, this feels less terrifying and more sacred. The older she gets, the more I understand: joy isn’t loud. It’s attentive. Moments over milestones. Every time.
Photo: My wish came true. 19 years ago this beautiful human was born.
