Hi, all.
I celebrated (yes, indeedy, right down to cake and singing) my 45th birthday on Saturday, and I learned a few things in the process.
My partner, who is appalled that I never had a birthday party or presents as a child, decided to make my birthday a week-long celebration. Each day, I had another gift--little things that she knew I'd like, like a box of Almond Roca, a little plastic moose (I love moose-s), and a book about natural ways to get the slugs out of my garden. And each day, she made up a little poem about how glad she was that I was born. Then, on the day of my birthday, we went out for a prime rib dinner. (There were other, more personal gifts given later--*chuckle*).
What really struck me was how the important part of the celebration wasn't getting stuff, it was knowing that she was thinking of me, and that she really is glad that I was born and that I'm in her life.
Whether or not JWs really believe the trash they mouth about not celebrating birthdays, it struck me that what JW children are really deprived of is that sense that we're each inherently loveable and to be treasured for who we are, not for how much time we spend in the service or how eagerly we raise our hand at the meeting. It's a lot to miss out on.
But gosh, I feel loved today.
Jankyn, grateful to be 45