Today, We Celebrate

Two weeks ago, I attended a princess party for a toddler. This past weekend, I celebrated a very different kind of birthday. The birthday girl wore a tiara. We sang a song with her name in it. She turned 41.

She hugs me when I arrive--despite the fact that she's closer to my mom than to me.  Mom drives her dialysis once or twice a week, sometimes less, sometimes more. They've become friends, I think even more. Mom loves her dearly (and so do I).

"Come in," she says. "I'm a mess--putting on makeup."  I comment on a picture of her with her kids and grandbaby. "Thanks, we had four poses," she leads me into her bedroom to see all four. "Look at these boots my son got me," she shows me great stiletto boots with silver studs. "Today, I'm about comfort," she giggles.

She has this knack for making people feel welcome, from the toddler to the 80-year old man (at a 41 year old's pink princess party).  "Ellis!" "It's so good to see you!" "Here, take my chair."

A guest arrives and tells us, "The neighbor wanted to know if there's a funeral." "I told her 'no!' Today, we celebrate!" says the guest, hugging other guests.

She wears here hair piled in a loose topknot and says, "Lilly has the prettiest hair. I love it when she wears it down."   "What size do you wear now Regan?" "I'm a double zero," she sighs, "Can't buy clothes  in this town anymore."

When asked to describe her, guests write: stylish, loves babies, courageous, fighter.

"Thanks," she says in response to a compliment. "I bought it with the gift card you got me." "I love these floaty tops because they hide my tummy." (despite being a size double zero, she has the disconcerting look of being 6 months pregnant).  She's childlike in her acceptance of herself (and others--it's a gift).

We share glances. I hope she doesn't notice.

Noticing a guest's green "Ireland" jacket she tells us, "I tell my kids I want my ashes spread in Ireland." Matter of fact.

"This is my baby," she introduces her grandbaby. "Nan nan nan," he chortles as he crosses the floor to climb into her arms. She snuggles her cheek against his--bliss, love.

We sing a song with her name in it: "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you." Because we are Christian, we follow our former pre-k teacher's lead and sing, "God's blessings to you, God's blessings to you, God's blessings dear Veronica, God's blessings to you."

We mean this with all of our hearts.