Passing Time

Birthdays.  I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before.  But I love birthdays.  I love all holidays, frankly, but birthdays are something special.  Its a day where you are celebrated for no greater accomplishment than being.  On Christmas, we celebrate  Christ’s birth; on Valentine’s Day, a saint’s bravery; Thanksgiving, a meal; Columbus Day, an invasion (let’s just be honest); Easter, a new beginning.  The list goes on.  And they are actions.  We celebrate things that have happened, or things that we do.  And that is lovely.  But on your birthday, you are celebrated for your very existence.  You had nothing to do with your birth, but it is you who receives the presents and the wishes and the balloons.  It’s your name printed on the banner.  It’s your life that is being celebrated.

You came into the world and we are all so goddamn grateful.  That’s why I love birthdays.  We could all use a little more celebration.


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