Fam, an admission.
Growing up, I took birthday parties for granted.
See, my momma was the QUEEN of birthday celebrations. And she threw me and Sistah some amazing ones.
Ice cream extravaganzas at Farrells…
Pajama parties with all you can eat peperoni pizza and mile high pancakes…
And once, Momma even treated me to a one of a kind MJ-Prince birthday cake, because my usual decisive self couldn’t choose between them.
Momma, on the other hand? She never made a big deal about her birthday. And Sistah and I – as kids are prone to do – didn’t either.
Don’t get me wrong. We’ve always known when Momma’s birthday is — February 15th, the day after everyone’s favorite made up holiday. But other than a few raw macaroni birthday cards or cooking — let me honest — burning her favorite short ribs for a birthday dinner, we didn’t do anything special to celebrate the day she came to be.
Then, before we knew it, Sistah and I were grown and out of the house. (Me in L.A. Gina in D.C.) And to commemorate Momma’s birthday, we upgraded to Mahogany Hallmark cards or taking her out to dinner when we were home — Still keeping it lowkey, because that’s how she wanted it.
But as Sistah and I got older – after losing our granny and grandmothers – we stepped up our game and threw Momma 50th and 60th birthday parties. Both successful in our chosen fields, we had a little coin to spoil her with and Momma – a kick ass cancer and stroke survivor, who likes who she likes – allowed us to do it.
Fast forward ten years later and we had big plans for Momma’s 70th. Gina and I have been taking sister trips together for years and even though Momma hates flying, and can’t stand California…That’s a whole ‘notha post…we were hoping to convince her to hop on a quick plane ride somewhere.
Then, this little thing named Covid19 turned the world upside down. There was so much loss. So much death. And we were so worried about Momma catching it that we put our plans on hold.
“Next year…” we said. “Next year, we’ll throw her 70th birthday party.”
But time, as time does, marched on. And even as we lost people – our father first, then three of his siblings followed – we kept kicking her 70th Birthday can down the road. And Momma – who still operates like a single Black mother sacrificing for her girls – was just fine with that. Not only because she’s not used to putting herself first, but also – as our treating her to a new birthday outfit brought up – because she struggles with feelings of unworthiness.
Something Sistah and I have also struggled with.
That’s why we knew we needed to celebrate Momma’s 73rd rotation around the sun.
Momma needed to know she was worthy of all the love showered on her. Because she earned and deserved it.
And on that wonderful day, seeing Momma’s tears, hearing her laugh and basking in her smile as she allowed herself to receive all that goodness…
That was the best blessing she could have ever given us.
Enjoy some pics from Momma’s Birthday Celebration, if the spirit moves ya. You’re welcome. 😊
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