Birthday

Maybe because I grew up in a poor family, birthday was never a big thing for me as a kid growing up. In retrospect, I learned the concept of birthday, and looked up in the calendar, and looked forward to the day when I was born few years earlier. There was no birthday cake, no candles, no family getting together singing happy birthday, but my mom would cook me some noodles with pig livers. That was one of my favorite food. I can't recall if my brother or sister had any birthday party. I was never invited to any kind of birthday party even as a kid growing up in Tainan. It was just a regular day that went by silently.

I did ask for a small birthday party when I was a junior high school, and got some of the painting equipment that I longed for. There was art class in junior high school when we had to bring our own brushes, paint, and water bucket to school. It seemed that everyone had a deflatable bucket, that looks nice and good. I was the only oddball to bring a used tin, that has milk powder printed on the outside and always bulged my school bag. So that year before birthday I asked if I could have some painting equipment for birthday. That was probably the only chance in a year when I could justify something extravagant. You know, why would I want a deflatable bucket when a tin can can do just fine. The gifts were carefully wrapped. I did not tear the wrappers, but carefully removed the tapes and kept the wrapper for a long time. That only happened one year.

That's probably why I feel birthday is really not a very big deal, and is also a very personal thing. It's so personal that I don't feel like having a party and sharing with many people, because it really has nothing to do with them. Yes, if there is one day that makes me so special, it is my birthday, and nothing else, but feeling special is one thing, shouting out loud and having a party to tell the whold world that I am special on that date is just not my cup of tea.

It is nicer to be remembered.

I guess that is also what sets father and mother apart, and somehow I feel closer to my mother. Mothers always remember kids' birthdays. That's just what mothers do. Even now, when I call to wish happy mother's day, she still mentions my birthday is coming up. That makes me feel special. At least once a year, somewhere on the globe someone thinks about me.

This year, on that date, I woke up with a card in the morning, and chocolate. I know he has a very good memory, but I still suspect he checked into my passport to find out. That's unexpected, as he had sent me a card before he went to the hospital. And then later in the afternoon, after we came back from a long walk, I said I had to get something to drink, and maybe some bites to tie me over before supper. He said then what about some ice cream for a change, and took out a pint of ice cream that he had bought 2 weeks before I got here, when it was on sale. I thought I checked the fridge in and out and knew everything we had, but then somehow ice cream was sitting in one corner and escaped my thorough inspection. Ice cream was cherry flavor, one of my favorites, because I got the same flavor last August in Vancouver. I generally do not like surprises, and specify my birthday presents when I have a choice. But this surprise is darn good, and spanned across the whole day. Unbelievably cheap, unbelievably considerate, and really, unbelievably everything I want it to be.

I thought I have to finish this post by end of May, so am writing it. :-)