That Little Voice

Birthdays are special celebrations, and should be treated as such.

As I near my 80 years to celebrate being on this earth, I recall several unique birthdays, and my Mother’s favorite comment when I would reach a milestone year, as on my 40th or 50th or 60th.

She would assure me, “Oh, your 40s will be the best years of your life!” Or your 50s, etc. So anytime I reach one of those decade turning years, I think of her.

Another celebration I recall with fondness was a year when friends took me out to lunch, and we laughed and joked and thoroughly enjoyed the hour or so we spent together.

Each person brought a great gift, and I relished in the limelight of this unique day. It was my 40-something birthday, so I considered it a biggie. I had looked forward to my 40’s, and was really into whatever 40 year olds do. In fact, members of the group at this particular party were my running buddies: women who considered themselves runners, not joggers. We were entirely too serious about this avocation to be mere ‘joggers’.

But I digress. One of my close friends was quite a pastry baker, if that is the

One of my close friends was quite a pastry baker, if that is the correct term for someone who makes cakes. And she surprised me with a beautifully decorated cake. The cake decorations featured a replica of my running shoes, race medals, trophies, things that told the story of our racing activities. And we had lots of stories to tell!

I was really touched by her generosity and her creativity to make this gift just for me, and at the end of lunch she handed me the knife so I could serve the cake. I was reluctant to mess the icing up, but realized cakes are meant to eat.

So I began to cut---or rather saw. The knife just wouldn’t go through the cake, it kept bouncing back. I looked up afraid the cooking queen would be embarrassed about the texture of the cake. Everyone looked back at me and became hysterical. It finally dawned on me, I didn’t have to mess up the decorations… the cake was made of foam rubber.

I should have known the camaraderie we shared would include jokes. I told them they were just jealous because I always won a trophy when we ran in races and they didn’t. No matter that I was in a different age group (older) than the age category they were in, and I usually was the only one in my elderly category… so I always came in first or second, even when I was the last person finishing the race, which happened more than once! That cake may have been the best one I never ate!

That cake may have been the best one I never ate!

And I’m looking forward to my 80s as the best years of my life.