I am a May baby. So were my two brothers. We were born May 3, May 6, and May 9 three years in a row. Growing up we had combined birthday parties with the family which usually included Mother’s Day as well. When we were older and had “friend parties” we alternated turns.
I still share my birthday with Mother’s Day, and this year they were on the same day. But this year my special day was a decade turner! I heard some whispers around me but didn’t inquire what was being planned—so it was a lovely sense of anticipation that I enjoyed being tortured by!
My grown daughter and her husband hosted a wonderful dinner in their brand new home, which meant they spent a lot of time hurriedly unpacking the rooms and finding a big enough dining table and chairs. Everything was just perfect and since their debut they have had 2 more gatherings at their house (that I know of) so they are enjoying being in a place where they can have friends over. Thank you, thank you.
At our wedding time I wanted nut breads and sweet breads, not wedding cake. In the past 3 years we have had 3 children marry and I have watched them go to cake tastings to choose favorite fillings and frostings and cake flavors. So for my birthday I told my long-suffering husband that what I really wanted was to have a birthday cake of my own designing, not a Costco cake that says “Happy Birthday Holly” on it. And certainly not one that says “Happy 60th Birthday”!
Do you want to see?
Lily-of-the valley is the May flower of the month, and I have always thought it very dear.
Let the presents begin!
What made it so wonderful is that there was love everywhere! Love to me, love to each other. My husband loving me enough to indulge in such a splendid birthday cake, my daughter and son having such a wonderful dinner, my friends and their husbands coming on the first warm Saturday of the year to celebrate with me, my Dad feeling tender at what the years have brought, and my children enjoying each other, my friends and kids enjoying each other and having good talks…and in all the jokes about aging, there was lots of love, because I know they’ll still be there for me down the road.
Two weeks later, the roses from the birthday table had not dropped a petal—isn’t that amazing? And that is just the way my memories of the evening are, holding fast and fragrant with the pleasure of it all.