#mark fratto

This is the first time in my existence that I did not have a birthday party.

There is a photo from my very first birthday party that I absolutely love. I'm wearing a silly hat, surrounded by family and there are three, that's right, THREE cakes on the table in my honor. (Now you know why I am so spoiled and why I love cake).

An early birthday party. Look at that cake!

Each year I always had at least two cakes--my grandmother made one, there was always one from the local bakery and sometimes my mom would bake a third. Birthdays have always been special to me. It's the one day of the year that I can call my very own (except the two years that I had to share the attention with Leo). As an adult, I've enjoyed throwing my own birthday parties. I've had great celebrations shared with some of the most amazing people in the world. From the quiet dinner parties to outlandish celebrations. From homemade treats to pastry-chef designed confections to the favorite cake of one of my guests. I love every detail of the celebration. 

Thanks to Nick for hosting this celebration of my thirty-third birthday. 

This year was completely different. I had no desire to celebrate, in fact, I've been dreading this day for a few weeks. What exactly is a "37"? This year, there is no party. There is no planning, designing, entertaining or sharing an evening out with my dearest friends. There is a cake--I picked up one from Whole Foods as an afterthought on Sunday. 

I've stood on the precipice of a complete meltdown for days. I can feel the tears just underneath the surface, ready to break the flood gates. Seriously, what is a "37"?

At 12:10 a.m. this morning, I received the first birthday wish from my friend Mark, who also shares this birth date. It warmed my heart and made me smile. A few more text messages and several Facebook posts and 37 wasn't feeling so bad. I woke up to the phone buzzing this morning. It was my mom. She loves this day--the day that she first gave life to another being. She cries on this day, overwhelmed by the gift of life and that she has a "special little girl" (her words, not mine). She sings the Birthday Song to me and then meows it. Yes, she MEOWS the song as a sentiment from my son--the indomitable feline, Mr. Big.  

My very first birthday card from my parents. 2/11/77

I take a few minutes to think about this day from her perspective, and I'm overwhelmed. I'm overwhelmed and I have no idea what it feels like to give life to another being. Wow. I think about Mark and his wonderful note and I smile. I look back at the other messages I have received up until this point (7:30 a.m.) and I take a moment to reflect on what each person means to me. 

I'm overwhelmed by the beauty of the love that has been bestowed upon me today. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to each and every person who took a moment to type a message, send a text, e-mail, or card, who phoned or tweeted. 

There was no party today, but I received well over three hundred presents and I am humbly grateful for each. I opened each one with awe and wonder. I took a moment with each one and held it close to my heart. I took a moment to reflect on how I know you. It has been a beautiful journey all day. 

I have no money, no home of my own, no heirs, no lover, but I am so rich in my heart. I sit here and warm tears stream down my face. I am overwhelmed not by which I lack, but by the depth of the journey and the strangers I have met along the way who have become family and mean so much to me.