In the 8 and 1/2 years of my blog I don’t recall ever talking about my birthday, that’s about to change.
I was born on Saturday, February 14… Valentine’s Day. Family story has it that my mother refused to have me on Friday the 13th. Whether true or not I don’t know but I have always liked being a Valentine.
I was born in Newark, NJ where my dad was a police officer. From the age of 6 months I spent all my summers on Martha’s Vineyard where my mother grew up. What a lucky kid I was.
Out and about for a walk with my Easter bunny in my new Easter outfit.

I was an only child but never a lonely child.
Every year my mother would plan a party for my birthday and every year I’d be sick and it would have to be canceled. At long last around the age of 9 or 10 I finally had my first birthday party.

I believe that was the first and last birthday party I had until my 50th many, many years later…
The group picture is my daughter Deb with dog Jilly, daughter Patty, granddaughter Tiffany and me… we recreated it for Patty’s 50th a few years ago with Deb holding dog Chappy this time. We’ve definitely all changed a bit I’d say.

And so that’s how birthdays go. One year after another like clock work they roll around and give us pause to think about the past ones and the ones still to come.
I can pretty much be summed up in this word search Patty made for me.

In the words of Carly Simon…”one number older, another year younger, blow out the candles, happy birthday” :)
