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Full of Silence, Signifying Nothing
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I thought maybe the people in my office would have a little marker of some sort for my 70th birthday tomorrow--cake and ice cream, perhaps, just a card (too much to expect?).

I guess I had been secretly hoping for a birthday party or maybe a pot luck or some kind of festivity. It's a milestone, 70 is. A lot of water under the proverbial bridge. The first year completed of a new decade.

The only event of the morning has been the $20 I coughed up to contribute to the purchase of the office Christmas tree. It feels like the continuation of my childhood experiences with my birthday--it was always combined with Christmas.

"We'll get you one present for both," they said. And after dinner, some kind of dessert to mark the occasion. My mother was too mentally ill for me to invite friends to my house.

It wasn't until I was in college that I could throw a little party for myself (how selfish!) and invite friends for the evening,

Then I got married, and it was dinner out and maybe a present (if he remembered). I always bought myself a gift (after all, it's my birthday--at least I can celebrate it for myself. how selfish!)

I was very touched when, ten years ago on my 60th birthday, my coworkers at the time (another office) brought balloons and flowers and cake and a card. I cried. A real celebration!

Once in a lifetime is sufficient. A lovely memory. Who needs anything else?

(...still, I'm a little disappointed today--except that Dan Gent and I are going to annual luncheon--yay!!)

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