I was married to a man who enjoyed traditions, and with whom I created many in our marriage. A favorite comes to mind in these first minutes of my personal new year.
One early January 17th morning, my husband crept out of bed before I’d awakened and quietly slipped into the living room of the apartment we shared in a cool 1920’s Hancock Park building. He slid a record onto the turntable and cranked it up – waking me, and probably the rest of our neighbors, though no one ever complained. “Birthday” from the White Album. He came back into our bedroom, pulled me out of bed, and danced me around the apartment in nothing but my skin, singing at the top of his lungs. The first of many birthday dances we shared on as many January 17ths and October 4ths as we were together.
We got to the point where we had actual choreography. I’ll bet he and I could do it right now, and remember every move we’d designed. It didn’t matter if we’d been arguing the night before. We danced. If we were on vacation, we brought a tape. If one of us was out of town, the other would call to play it. It was a tradition we looked forward to, always finishing in laughter and hugs at the end.
The last “Birthday” dance was 7 years ago today.
But there are other birthday traditions for me to look forward to. Banana takes me to a cool restaurant, leaves the hubby and the babies behind. Just us girls getting dressed up, going out and eating great food. X calls after midnight. And I'm sure Mom and I will have the same exchange we have every year:
"Hi, dear, Happy Birthday."
"Hi, Mom, thanks for having me."
Really. Thanks. I mean it.
I do.
2 comments:
Hey, my guess is that there are lots of folks who are glad your mother had you. Adds a whole new celebratory dimension to the old saying, "You've been had."
Happy birthday, kid!
thanks, 'less.
the haver can be had, and the had can be the haver.
today, i celebrate the charming and mystical duality of life!
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