“Happy birthday to me” *smiling and humming*
On this day in 19-something, my mother gave birth to me at St. John’s Hospital in Longview, WA. When my parents took me home a few days later, it was in a Christmas stocking.
My birthday has been shoved into the Christmas rush of parties, baking, family gatherings and shopping parades ever since.
This year? I’m in Cabo San Lucas for my birthday.
The sky is azure and the golden sun feels sweet kissing my winter-white skin. Everyone knows I’m a tourist. Hopefully, they can’t guess my age.
In truth, as I wrote this, the sun was shining outside my office window. The thermometer struggled to top 40 degrees. My hands turned purple and couldn’t melt an ice cube.
At the first of the month I gave my five reasons for skipping the whole Christmas season this year. Planning this trip to Mexico was part of my plan to disassociate myself with memories that made me sad.
Is it working? I’ll have to get back to you on that.
Tomorrow, I have to fly back to Portland. If it’s anything like other trips to sunny regions, it may be snowing when we get to the airport.
The one wearing shorts and shivering? That would be me – trying to hang on to my happy birthday memories just a little bit longer.
Maybe they didn’t sing you “Happy Birthday” in Cabo, but what is your favorite birthday memory?