I read John Gray's column Wednesday in The Saratogian about birthdays. He didn't like them. He gave reasons such as you didn't earn a reward or praise or the like. He suggested it more or less is just another day. I have a son who feels the same way as John does.
But I wholeheartedly disagree with both of them. Maybe it's because I reached my 80th birthday recently. To me that's accomplishment for anyone. But I always felt this way.
After all it is a special day in your life. If you don't like or enjoy it yourself think about the woman who gave birth to you. If she hadn't you wouldn't be here. Right?
In most cases, when you were younger or even today (if she's still living) she celebrated it by giving you parties with your friends or family.
My four children were all born within three months of one another (different years of course): one in July, two in August and one in September. I would gather close to 30 family members and friends together for one big party in about the middle of those months. We feasted on hamburgers and hot dogs, sodas (wouldn't do soda today), beer and wine for the adults, chips and all kinds of salads. The day was completed by at least two birthday cakes and other goodies. It was fun no matter what the weather.
I remember one celebration in particular that it rained. We managed by cooking on the grill just outside the confines of the garage. We'd laugh as the kids would run through the raindrops and puddles. But it was a special day in their lives.
OK, maybe it was more for me than them. But I'm the one that remembers their births. And, as I said previously I love mine and hope I never feel differently.
Anyway, John "Happy Birthday." It really is a special day in your life or at least in your mother's.

I turned 80 on Sept. 10 and I didn't dread it at all.
I have been living a wonderful life with the same man for nearly 60 years. I have four absolutely outstanding children; five outstanding grandchildren; and three adorable great-grandchildren and one on the way. And, I'm a little sad, too.
The reason being only one of the four children live near me. The other three are far away, which means the grandchildren and great-grandchildren are too. It's difficult to travel now not only because of our ages, but because my husband is legally blind.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not really complaining because I stay closely in touch with all of them. They're loving and attentive to me and show their love in many ways.
Now that I've got that off my chest I want to say thanks to everyone for my happy birthday wishes and especially to my entire family for remembering me on my special day.
I love all of you far more than you'll ever know. Here's to next year's celebration.

There is just something about the fall of the year that makes me sad. It shouldn't because it often is the most beautiful time with the colors of yellows, greens and reds mixed together.
But it also means the summer months have passed; the ground will soon be filled with fallen leaves to rake; and, in my case, September makes me a year older. And I would rather be going the other way.
Let's face it. Anyone in their golden years understands what I'm talking about - an ache here, an ache there. But mentally I am still that young woman wanting to do all the things I did when I was in my 50s. But the body doesn't always cooperate.
So, instead of feeling sorry for myself I'm off on a shopping spree. I don't know why. I certainly don't need any new clothes, but "hell" it makes me feel better so why not go for it.
Here's to a beautiful fall season. Make the best of it because you know what's not too far behind.