All the things that Sparkle

For the longest time, when people asked me what my thing was about birthdays, I would say it was about feeling pretty, buying all the sparkly things, eating dessert first, and being surrounded by people I love and who love me back.

My birthday almost always falls during the week of Memorial Day at the end of May. Growing up in a small town in the South, that meant school was either already out or very close to it. It was hot and humid, and the rush of summer collided with my special day.

At my house, birthdays meant we got to pick what was for supper, and my mom made a homemade cake while all the neighbors and cousins came over to sing “Happy Birthday” and eat a slice of cake. My meal of choice was almost always beef roast, rice and gravy, homemade macaroni and cheese, and broccoli. This tradition held true from as far back as I can remember until the year my mom passed away.

As I type this, I can almost smell it all as the memories come rushing back. My mom was the absolute best cook, and if I think really hard, I can almost taste the savory meal that I miss so much.

When my mom passed away, my dad tried to recreate those birthday traditions. But my dad was not a cook, and try as he might, it only made me miss my mom even more. I loved him for the effort, but that first year I realized that if I was going to enjoy my birthday without completely wallowing in the gaping hole left by my mother’s absence, then it was up to me to bedazzle the day.

It started with taking the day off work, getting my hair done, scheduling a mani-pedi, buying a new outfit even if it was impractical or not budget-friendly, ordering the cake, and inviting friends to celebrate in all sorts of ways and places.

I learned the hard way when I was younger that people cannot read your mind, and sometimes your idea of fun and celebration is not the same as theirs. So, if you want something, ask for it.

After a little guidance from life, I began taking the phrase, “If it’s meant to be, it’s up to me,” very literally. I started planning my own parties and get-togethers so I could celebrate with as many of the people who were special to me as time and opportunity would allow.

It seemed I had many different groups of friends, and the celebrations became as separate and varied as their personalities work friends, Bible study friends, old friends, school friends, neighbors, and the list goes on.

Sometimes it was birthday coffee, a birthday workout at the gym, dinner, dancing, a girls’ trip, or a concert. My sons eventually started joking that I had a “birthday month,” and honestly, they were probably right.

Looking back, my birthdays were less about what we were doing and more about turning ordinary moments into celebrations. We already ate lunch after church every Sunday, but on my birthday, it became “birthday lunch.” We already worked out together during the week, but suddenly it was a “birthday workout.” Even coffee felt special when someone intentionally carved out time just to celebrate you.

You see, sometimes it is not the action itself that makes something special. Sometimes it is doing ordinary things with extraordinary intention. I always said my over-the-top birthday celebrations started after my mom died. But as I reflected on my birthday this year, I realized something else entirely. I began celebrating myself when my mom died but I have always celebrated other people.

From the time I was in high school and throughout my entire adult life, I have thrown more surprise parties than I can count on two hands. On three separate occasions, someone told me the birthday celebration I planned for them was the most special birthday they had ever had. One such person told me that and as she recalled the event to me decades later, I was racking my brain to remember what I had done for her that made it the most special birthday of her life.

What an honor that is to make someone feel seen, thought of, and valued.

We can spend lots of money celebrating people, and most of us can appreciate a special gift but often it is simply in lifting one another up and letting people know they matter that makes all the difference.

Maybe that is what all the sparkle was really about all along.

The glitter and the cake and the dinners were never just about me.

Maybe birthdays became my way of turning love into something visible.

Maybe they became proof that joy is something worth creating on purpose.

And maybe the most beautiful thing we can give one another is the reminder that our life being here is something worth celebrating.

Sprinkle kindness like glitter and eat the cake. Take the nap. Call the old friend. Do all the ordinary things with extraordinary intention, and never miss the chance to remind the people you love that they are cherished every day, but especially on their birthday!

To all of my friends and family who have reached out, made the call, showered me with the gifts of your time, love and affection and treasures. Each one of you have made me feel seen and thought of and cherished and I love you all!!

Bless Your Heart,

Magnolia Grace