Candles.

Last week, I “celebrated” my forty-first birthday. I am rapidly approaching “farts dust” old, though, I may already be there and am just too old to know it. My age is incomprehensibly ancient to my eleven year old son. “Mannn, forty-one, that’s OLD!” He says while walking away, shaking his head, trying to imagine someone this old still being able to use the toilet, unassisted. Unbeknownst to him, he’s at the top of my list when the day comes that I need a little extra help. Payback is gonna be sweet.
I stopped caring about my birthdays a while ago. For me, forty was the only milestone worth noting and even then it was used mainly as a reference point to how much closer I am to death than birth and, truthfully, it is simply easier for me to count by tens. I’m not that strong in math. Since I am likely past the halfway mark of my life, I try not to think about it too much.
Through the years, I have had my fair share of birthday parties. I have whacked piñatas. I have pinned donkey’s tails. I have had cake, ice cream, pizza and shots. I have gone to church. I have danced and I have sung, poorly, on both accounts. I have eaten well. And I have thrown up. One year, I blew the candles out with my nose. My guests focused their appetites on the ice cream. One year, I went fishing with my Grandpa. One year, I went fishing with my buddy, Andy, and wound up on a drunken exodus through several small bergs in Eastern Washington. I have celebrated in different states and different countries. Last year, my wife had a surprise party for me. The party was a month after my birthday. I had long forgotten about my birthday and I was SURPRISED!! (Note: This is genius.)
This year I was back to my standard indifference. I need no reminders of my aging. I am very familiar with it.
As genuinely ambivalent as I was about my birthday, an unexpected vehicle presented several little gifts that were very welcomed and much appreciated: Facebook. I received “Happy Birthday’s” from many different people. I am not a Facebook junkie and generally don’t post my own minutiae. I don’t often reply to other people’s posts and I don’t play any games. But, I’ll tell you, after my birthday, I am a believer! Facebook allows for wonderful “arm’s length” relationships that have no heavy investment, yet feel good. We have all shared the different times in our lives with many different people. It is nice to be connected or reconnected with these people. I have known lots of folks over the years and have liked most of them! But, life is busy and/or moves on. It is a challenge to remain in contact with everyone. Facebook is a nice consolation. The laundry list of people who commented on my birthday included: elementary school friends, middle and high school friends, relatives, college buddies, and old work buddies. All of these people have shared a time in life with me. We are connected in memories and yearbooks. This has value. Visiting the profile of the guy who sat behind you in English class for four years is great. It is nice to see his kids and how he is doing. I wouldn’t call him on the phone, that’s too personal, but I am happy for him and our time spent together. Facebook makes possible a new kind of, slightly voyeuristic, relationship. It shrinks the world and that’s good.
With this in mind, I thank all my friends for their well wishes and wish good things for them and appreciate the electronic sharing of their lives with me. From now on, I will send “Happy Birthdays”, because I know that, no matter how long it’s been since I have actually seen or spoken to some of my “friends”, every one of us likes to hear or read “Happy Birthday” wishes to us. My note will be sincere and filled with genuine hope for a good day. “Happy Birthday” just feels good. No matter how old we are.