Aug. 06, 2002 - 23:09 MDT

THE WONDERING JEW

Birthday Party

In my early years I went to only one birthday party. Needless to say I was in a family of folk of the low rent district. That plus the fact that Mom and Dad both worked so there would be no one at home but me. In the world and time I came up, birthday parties were held on the honoree's birthday. Not like the present day when birthday parties are held on the nearest weekend day to the time of the birthday.

Just having been to one birthday party when very young and being a confused, bashful, clumsy kid who really had no friends other than my cousins across town, that party was more of a chore for me than fun. The other kids there had been there, done that before so knew how to act.

I was always treated as well as Mom and Dad could do for me and I had their ever constant love to hug tight to my soul as well as a few presents just no party. By the time I grew to the age where a I could have really had a blast at a birthday party for me, most everybody was intent on survival through the Great Depression.

Fortunately Heather came from a fairly large family whose head had a decent job and they suffered not during that period. In fact Heather was somewhat ignorant of the fact that our country was in such a state until learning about it in her schoolwork. She knew that some of her friends were hungry and she would bring cookies and goodies out with her for all to eat while at play. She also knew that some of her friends moved away but not why. Some of them returned when times got better.

In a way it was weird, I read about the Depression in the papers, heard about it on the radio. But the fact that an individual family was suffering the effects of it seemed to be treated as a secret similar to the daughter getting pregnant and being shipped off to aunt's or grandmother's out of state to return after a, "Necessary trip for her health," it was just not mentioned amongst those around us. In other parts of the country it was not that way. I think it was just that way among those who were working and struggling to get along.

Heather and I had only been married about four months when preparations were slanted toward getting ready for the arrival of a baby. So the first real birthday parties I ever attended were for our children. Here I was a father supposed to be an adult having just as much fun as if the party were for me but just one of our kids got the presents. Heck I enjoyed their happiness in receiving longed for toys, more I think that I did things given me. Because my evergreen present has been my family, the whole darn bunch of them. That's the kind of family I always wanted to be a member of. And so it went through the years, Heather and I made sure that if it was at all possible each of our kids would have a party for his or her birthday. Heather and I lovingly exchanged what presents we could afford to buy for the birthday of each other. Most of the time her birthday in January was pretty well subdued because of the cold, and mine in April was often cold and sloppy too. So it was usually a cake with candles and presents made by the kids and just us together. Those were close together precious spaces in our lives.

Things like that seem to be habitual once pursued for years. With five kids we were usually getting ready for birthdays and Christmases and trying to cut corners on our needs in order for the kids to have their birthday parties. Gee they were fun, the almost explosive joy of kids at a birthday party has to be witnessed to be understood how it is, and it is contagious too. During those years I was Dad during the year and half Dad and half kid at their birthday parties. I had a blast playing the games the kids did. It of course, was more fun for me at one of our boy's parties than the girl's but I had fun at them too.

Eventually they grew up, married and moved out. Then Heather and I would enjoy a birthday party spearheaded by one of our children. Heather didn't have to lay on the eats and often we would go to their house. The presents were modest but the shared love was fantastically enormous.

Christmas talk for another time.

My birthday to me just denotes survival for another year and makes me feel that I should be having the party for our family instead of me having one. I am not a basket case really and don't need psychiatric care its just that I am a little reticent about being the subject of a party.

The party our family held for my eightieth birthday completely overwhelmed me, I still glow a bit yet when I think of it. Now that was one honkin' big Birthday Party . . . . . .

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