Having an early January birthday has often meant celebrating indoors. When I was young, I envied those summer babies who could mark their special day with a beach bash or pool party. Following so closely after all the winter holiday celebrations, my birthday often felt like an afterthought… one that wasn’t necessarily welcome.
Although my parents made a big effort to make the day special for me, I would have preferred that they had put more thought into when I was conceived… sometime in November, rather than April would have given me the summer birthday I longed for. Sheesh.
Up until four years ago, January 6th was best known for being the day of Epiphany, or the Twelfth Day of Christmas. I’m not religious, but I liked the idea that my birthday was celebrated in many countries with merry making, feasting, and the consuming of Three Kings Cake. I also liked that the word Epiphany means a moment when you suddenly feel that you understand, or become conscious of, something. A sudden insight or intuitive understanding. An “aha!” moment.
In the U.S., January 6th is now also remembered for a darker reason, one that I’d rather not share my birthdate with. It has become not only a date, but a heartbreaking description, something like September 11.
Four years ago, a few days before January 6th became more than just a date on most people’s calendars, I wrote a silly poem about my birthday. I had meant to post it on my blog, but as that day’s events unfolded, I was too shocked and saddened to do much of anything.
As I get older, I have had a lot of aha! moments and find myself gaining insights that weren’t clear to my younger self. Although there are some things I’ll never understand, this poem was written as a tongue-in-cheek celebration of the good. I hope you enjoy it.
Epiphany (or, a Birthday Bitty Ditty) Epiphany old bitty me I’ve gained a year today Regretfully with vague ennui I hoped I could delay Once fancy-free oh, where is she my youth of yesterday But, by degree fait accompli my hair is turning gray Now hear my plea don't pity me I'm feeling no dismay Oh glory be can you not see I’m old but no cliché Most certainly I'm still me just further in decay No magic key no guarantee I'd make it all this way But here I be Oh, lucky me much more than just okay Epiphany strikes suddenly I'm grateful for this day
the Caramelized Orange Cheesecake my dear husband makes me every year.
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