I don’t look forward to my birthday. I dread adding another candle to the cake, another circle around the sun. I don’t want anyone to make a fuss or a big deal out of my birthday. But this year is different.

Today is my birthday, I’m 47. 47. That feels like an impossibly big number. I don’t feel 47. I feel 37 maybe. Not 27 for sure, I’m well past my 20s and thankful for it. But I don’t feel like I’m close to 50. My body tells me I’m in my 40s, what with my achy hip and the lines and pounds that keep making their way onto my body. But early 40s. Not 47.

But no matter the number, I’m embracing my birthday this year – telling people about it, letting my family know it is okay to make a fuss. A friend asked if I wanted to go out for drinks for my birthday and did I want her to invite anyone else to join us. I think she expected me to say just us, keep it small, like last year. But I told her to invite the other moms in our neighborhood group and 8 of us went for drinks. We went to an actual restaurant for the first time in many months. They gave me presents and made a toast. I felt loved.

Maybe it is because there is so much sadness and confusion in the world right now. What with a pandemic and riots in the streets, the world feels upside down. Having something to celebrate is a relief. Bring on the drinks, the dinner, the barbecue with family.

I made another trip around the sun and have the wrinkles to show for it, but I’m grateful that my Mom will wish me happy birthday. My sister or my Dad will need to remind her it is today, but that’s okay. When I see her – and seeing her and hugging her is once again possible – she will smile wide and her voice will sound familiar as she tells me Happy Birthday. I can close my eyes and imagine she is whole again, that I am 37 and dementia has not taken the best parts of her away from me. I’m grateful for the hug, grateful for her cheerfulness, and for all the good times we still have together.

No matter how old we are, we always want our mothers to remember our birthdays. This year I will pretend that mine still does. So what if my sister has to put it on her calendar and then remind her today is in fact Saturday, June 13? There is so much pain in the world, so many people have lost loved ones this year. Who am I to bemoan my birthday? I get to celebrate another year — I am alive! I am lucky. Blessed. I will hug my children, hug my Mom, feel grateful for every one of my 47 years. Now more than ever, we have to find joy in the little things, in the moment, in being with loved ones. I am counting my blessings.

So Happy Birthday to me! My birthday wish is for understanding, courage, the ability to listen, and to do better. And I wish for another trip around the sun, because I’m not finished yet.