A Different Kind of Birthday

As I sat in the rocking chair tonight, with my sweet Mabel, wishing her to sleep, a dark shadow emerged from the hallway.  And then another.  It was Sydney, the black lab and Smooch my devoted blond lab, coming to make sure all was well. They plopped down on the floor in the nursery.  Always there. Always available.  Always attuned to me and my loved ones.  It was the end of a long day.  My new job, for now, is being the Granny Nanny.   This was not the birthday of years past.  There would be no dinner out with my dear husband or celebrations with my peeps at work.  A few times over the last few years, I have been lucky to be in rehearsal for a show so my birthday was celebrated by a big, larger than life, boisterous group of actors.  This year it was me and my grand baby and two Labrador retrievers. As usual, I enjoyed the bounty of a Facebook birthday where old friends from near and far, from this life and the lives before, resurfaced to send birthday greetings.  There is much to appreciate about what social media has allowed in our lives.  I love that annual tradition of reconnecting with so many.  Some of my friends posted that they hoped I was having a big party or celebrating with fervor. I have been known to be a bit of a party girl.  Hmmm.  Maybe not this year.

I got the usual phone calls from my family.  That’s kind of what we do.  We call each other and sometimes we sing happy birthday.  But I missed each call today as I attended to my sweet Mabel.  This is a different gig for sure.  It is consuming in ways that I didn’t imagine or managed to forget. I was happy to know that my family remembered me today but not unhappy that I was busy when the calls arrived. My husband, still in Vermont,  sent a beautiful bouquet of flowers that I will enjoy all week long.  I guess he misses me.

I had been in charge since 7:30 this morning when the kids went off to work and then to a rehearsal dinner for a wedding that they will be celebrating this weekend.  It was a long day but not without joyful moments.  What is better than teaching your first grand baby to sing Happy Birthday?  We sing and we sing a lot.  She seems to love it and of course so do I.

But my heart aches a bit for the life I had when life was overflowing with friends and colleagues and loved ones.  This experience of being in a different city, with a different family, albeit my own daughter, is a bit disorienting.  I am NOT complaining.  Not one bit.  But I am feeling the loss of my old life, in Vermont, in Boston, in business, with my a cappella group,  even at camp.  This year, it’s just me and the baby and the dogs.  I guess it’s all part of the passage of becoming a grandparent and leaving behind a busy work life, at least for now. 

Babies have an uncanny way of making us live in the moment.  Thankfully, they are not worrying about the stock market, or the shenanigans in our nation’s capital.  They eat, they sleep, they laugh, they sing and they appreciate the care that we shower on them.

That’s my gig for now.  Perhaps next year, I’ll throw a different kind of birthday celebration.  Who knows.  Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to celebrate with some of you.