Yesterday was my birthday, and at some point during the day I found myself thinking about how differently I look at birthdays now than I probably did when I was younger. I still love the celebrating part of them, of course. I love that Nathan always works so hard to make the day special, and I love that my boys never forget. But birthdays mean more to me than cake, presents, dinner, or whatever we happen to do that year.

For me, another birthday means I got another year.

Maybe that sounds overly simple, but after everything my body has been through over the last three decades, I don’t think I will ever take that for granted. There have been plenty of times in my life when I was focused only on getting through the next surgery, the next hospital stay, the next complication, or even just the next day. I certainly wasn’t thinking about all the birthdays still ahead of me.

And yet, here I am.

When I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease at 15, I had no idea how much it would change my life. I didn’t know how many surgeries would follow, how much time I would spend in hospitals, how many things I would have to learn to live with, or how often I would have to adjust to a new version of normal. I was just a teenager trying to get through what was happening in front of me.

Looking back now, I think that is part of why birthdays feel so significant. Every one of them represents a whole year I once couldn’t see.

A year of being here for my family. A year of watching my boys grow older. A year of building a life with Nathan. A year of ordinary days, hard days, funny days, frustrating days, and beautiful days. A year of things I would have missed if my story had ended differently.

That doesn’t mean every year has been easy. Far from it. Some years have brought more health issues than I would have liked, and some have brought losses and changes I never would have chosen. Even now, my body still throws new things at me, and there are times when I would really love to tell it that I think we have done enough.

But that is part of the point, too.

Life does not have to be easy to be worth celebrating.

I think that is something we forget sometimes when it comes to birthdays. We tend to focus on getting older, and not always in a good way. People joke about not wanting to say their age, not wanting another birthday, or wishing they could somehow stop the clock.

I get it. Nobody is exactly excited about wrinkles, gray hairs, aching joints, or all the other little reminders that we are not 20 anymore.

But I also think there is another side to getting older that deserves a lot more attention.

You are still here to notice those things.

You are still here to complain about your back, laugh with your spouse, answer your kids’ phone calls, make dinner, take a trip, sit outside on a beautiful evening, spend time with your grandkids, or do absolutely nothing on a Sunday afternoon.

There is a lot of life tucked inside those ordinary things.

The People Who Make the Day Special

One of the biggest reasons I love my birthday is because Nathan and my boys have always made sure I feel special.

My boys never forget, and that means so much to me. They are grown now, with their own lives and responsibilities, but they still remember. There is something about hearing from your children on your birthday that never gets old, no matter how old they are.

And then there is Nathan.

He works so hard every year to make sure my birthday feels special. He plans things, thinks about what I would enjoy, and puts real effort into making the day feel like mine. Sometimes I think he cares more about making my birthday perfect than I do.

What I love most isn’t even whatever we end up doing. It is the effort behind it.

It is knowing that after all these years together, he still wants to celebrate me. He still wants me to feel loved and important. He still wants the day to stand out.

That means everything.

I don’t think birthdays are really about presents once you get older. At least not for me. They are about being reminded that there are people in your life who are glad you are here.

There is something pretty powerful about that.

So Much Life I Never Could Have Imagined

When I think back to that 15-year-old version of myself, there is no way she could have imagined this life.

She could not have imagined becoming a mom to two boys and then watching them become men.

She could not have imagined the heartbreak and loss that would come later, or that she would somehow find love again after it.

She could not have imagined Nathan.

She could not have imagined becoming a grandma and how much joy one little girl could bring into her life.

She could not have imagined building a career, going back to school, writing a memoir, or creating a blog where she would openly share so much of her life with people she had never met.

She definitely could not have imagined all the places she would go, the memories she would make, or all the completely ordinary moments that would end up meaning so much.

I think that is one of the things writing my memoir has made me notice more.

When you look back over decades of your life, you see how often you were simply trying to get through one chapter without knowing what was waiting in the next one. At the time, you can’t see the whole story.

You just keep going.

And then one day you look around and realize how much life happened while you were doing that.

Birthdays Aren’t Only for Kids

I also think we need to stop acting like birthdays become less important once we grow up.

Why should they?

When we are kids, birthdays are huge. We count down the days, pick out the cake, decide what we want to do, and expect everyone to make a big deal about us.

Then somewhere along the way, we are supposed to become too mature for all of that.

I don’t buy it.

I don’t think there is an age when we stop needing to feel loved, remembered, or celebrated.

Maybe your version of a good birthday changes. Maybe you no longer need balloons and a pile of presents. Maybe your perfect birthday is dinner with your family, a weekend away, a quiet day at home, or simply having everyone you love around you.

But I still think the day matters.

Your life matters.

And there is nothing wrong with allowing one day each year to remind you of that.

Another Year I Got to Live

So when I think about my birthday now, I don’t think of it as another year gone.

I think of it as another year I got to live.

Another year with Nathan.

Another year with my boys.

Another year of being Grandma.

Another year of working, writing, laughing, traveling, worrying, loving, struggling, learning, and making memories.

Another year of being here for all of it.

I have no idea what this next year will bring. My life has taught me enough times that trying to predict that would be pointless. I’m sure there will be good things, hard things, surprises, frustrations, and probably at least a few moments when I wonder what in the world is happening now.

But I also know there will be life in between all of it.

There will be ordinary mornings and dinners with Nathan. Conversations with my boys. Time with Amara. Trips we haven’t planned yet. Things I haven’t written yet. Memories I don’t even know are coming.

That is what makes another birthday feel so special to me.

It isn’t about being excited to get older.

It is about being grateful that I get to.

So yes, I will always celebrate my birthday.

I will let Nathan make a fuss. I will love hearing from my boys. I will enjoy the dinner, the cake, the presents, and whatever else the day brings.

Most of all, though, I will quietly be grateful for what the day really means.

I’m still here.

And I got another year.