BIRTHDAYS THROUGH THE
AGES
by Diane Dettmann
While paging through our family photo album where my mother meticulously
recorded the daily events of our lives, I came across a black and white picture
of my birthday on
July 7, 1952. The snapshot quickly drew me back to the yearly childhood celebrations
of my brother Tom and me getting older. I remember how every year as a child I
looked forward to my birthday. The minute I woke up on party day I was giddy with excitement
Money was tight when I was a child, but my mother always
found a way to plan a party with homemade layer cake, candles and games. The
cake was always delicious, a special treat normally reserved for Sundays and
holidays. Colorful balloons dangled from the dining room light fixture while
cousins and neighborhood friends gathered around the round oak table covered
with a white linen cloth. As soon as the last few crumbs of chocolate cake disappeared
off our plates, my mother and aunt set up the games. My favorite was Drop the Clothespin
in the Bottle. Each child had a chance to kneel on a dining room chair and drop clothespins in the glass milk bottle. The child who got the most clothespins in received
a small prize. After my mother gave directions for the next game we all scrambled around the house searching for hidden peanuts behind doors, under furniture and in bookcases. With peanuts stuffed in our pockets, we lined up to play Pin the Tale on the Donkey. Before the last guest left at
the end of the party, I was already looking forward to my next birthday!
In June 2000, when my loving husband John died a week before
my fifty-third birthday, I didn’t care
if I ever had a birthday again. But
when my sister arrived on the morning of July 7th with a cake and gift, I blew
out the single candle on top surrounded by pink frosting and tried my best to
enjoy the day. During the years that followed I spent some birthdays alone and
others going out to lunch or dinner with friends and family.
This year, as
the seasons passed by wrinkles on my face and neck seemed to appear out of nowhere.
Every time I hit the selfie icon on my phone and saw my face in the camera I
thought, Yikes! Is that me? Where did that
youthful Diane go? This year on my 70th birthday, I thought about
my brother, parents and grandmother who never made it to that milestone. I miss them deeply. Now
when I look in the mirror, I’m grateful for those wrinkles and look forward to
each new day I’m given. Celebrating birthdays is a gift!
