Birthdays, mashed up cake and ice cream and other gushies

If you are a regular reader of my blog...you already know by now I'm entirely sentimental. Even more so perhaps during the approach of significant life milestones. Well we all are to some extent.

This year's birthday isn't particularly significant- that one was last year.

But as I look back at this picture taken on my 8th or 9th birthday (can't remember) I smile.


We were at Chuck-E-Cheese's...

We ate pizza and had ice cream sundaes...Well my friends had pizza, I had a hot dog (because I didn't like pizza back then). I know what you are thinking--weird kid, huh?
There are birthday traditions that stand. Things like good friends, and good food and laugher never get old...even if the birthday girl is. Ha ha!

But my favorite birthday tradition by far is going to sound a little corny...but here goes.

I remember back then my dad would tell me "the birthday story"... The birthday story is something that Mary and I always got...it was tailored to each of our respective entrances into the world.

For mine he'd start by waking me up and saying
"I remember...and he'd fill in (6, 7,8 or,9 years) ago today...I had a beautiful baby girl."

He'd tell me all the things he remembered about the day I was born. He'd tell me about what my mom said when she saw me...or how happy they were to have a daughter after waiting for me.

Back then I used to kind of wince when dad would say that...and feign the "oh Dad!!"....as any kid does when their parent gets all gushy. But secretly I loved hearing that story told exactly the same way. My dad still tells me that story the same way...even all these years later... and yes, I still go out for cake and ice cream with my friends. Old friends, new friends...and birthdays still are about feeling special to the people you love....but can we get down to the real heart of why I write this?...

I'm turnng another year older next week...and I love it! I am alive..and I am approaching almost 2 years of being cancer free!!!

Post-script:
Age is just a number my friends and blog readers...and given the assured sanitary conditions I would SO be that young at heart woman who dove into the ball pit.