Shrine of honor

When I was a little girl and I still had birthday parties (you know the kind where you drop clothes pins into jars, get cake AND ice cream and you played in the backyard until you were so tired that your mom had to send your friends home, talk you into a warm bath and put you to bed dreaming of cake, balloons and presents) I started a little tradition: the birthday shrine. We'd build it on our dining room table: presents, cards, balloons, cake decorations, it all went into a multi-tiered, well arranged centerpiece of sorts.

I keep to the tradition. Each day prior to and following my birthday, I anxiously await the mail, ripping open cards from near and far and then placing them on our mantle. Soon I start to tuck gift cards, presents and other little birthday memories. I am sure that Cynical finds this very narcissistic, but I find it warm and fuzzy. I make one for him each year too, but I am not certain the sentiment translates.

I guess it does seem a little self-centered, but I don't see it that way. It is a way of reminding me that even though I may not always realize it, I am blessed. I am blessed by so many people that thought of me. I remember that feeling as I peruse my calendar each month preparing for others' birthdays. I want to pick a card, a gift or a goodie that will go into their birthday shrine. Maybe they will get the same feeling: I am blessed. It's not about the presents. It's not about the cards, it truly is about the thought.

This year I was tempted to print out my comments page from my post on Friday. It seemed appropriate that I include my online birthday sentiments.

I won't torture you with my birthday celebration details, but suffice to say that it involved multiple meals out on the town, a trip to Starbucks, rented movies, a Target gift card, lots of e-mail, lots of cards, calls from both of my brothers, cashola, yarn and a birthday shrine that made me tear up. Thank you. (And the celebrating isn't over yet.)