not until after the birth of Malcolm did I understand the true, resonating, meaningful, powerful, need for celebration, colorful joy of a birthday.
Now whenever someone has a birthday, I think about how this is a celebration of the day they entered this world, the day they met their parent for the first time, their first impression of and on the world.
This is similar to the feeling I have when I am somewhere where I am surrounded by a bunch of people and I have a moment of pause, of conscious pause. I think... all of these people were born.. all of these people have a mother, or someone who carried them until they were viable to live on their own... or someone who brought them into this world. In a way it challenges the idea that we are born alone and we die alone. We are NOT born alone. and how can we die alone when there have been so many who have affected our lives, been entwined in our lives, passed on before us, and will pass on after us... sigh... a good sigh...
