happy birthday

November 9, 2020

Yesterday was my birthday, completing our cycle of Covid birthdays. They began in April, with a snow covered celebration for Antimo. We ate ice cream cake that day, and lay on the carpeted floor of our rental flat to watch Trolls World Tour. Two of his school friends left word searches and Jenga bricks on our front porch. Then came June, and Iole’s birthday, which we celebrated under a tree in Ramsden Park with pizza and bomboloni. Along came Luma at the height of summer with an outing to Bang Bang for ice cream sandwiches. We stuck a candle in hers, and sang to her on the side of the street. Jason’s birthday came shortly after, with a September day warm enough to sit outside and eat more ice cream. He too got a candle in his scoop of vanilla. And then came mine, Spring in November, with a walk along the beach and a giant chunk of creamy sheep’s cheese. Friends and neighbours milled around outside our house in t-shirts and sunglasses. Lovely. With no parties to plan and people to entertain, Covid birthdays have been a delight. When expectations are low one really appreciates the little things; a blue sky (that always feels like a gift from the universe) and the homemade slice of cake your friend bakes you. I’ve always loved the quiet birthdays, the ones where the sun comes out, so I can really see the world outside and within me.


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