By: Marlene Oxender
Montpelier, Ohio
When it comes to birthdays, my mother was someone who saw the value in celebrating them. She wanted a cake in front of her birthday person. Her kitchen cupboards were well stocked with cake mixes and birthday candles.
When we’re a child, a birthday celebration is fun. We sit still and listen to the birthday song while all eyes are on us. When they’re finished singing, we lean forward and blow out the candles in one big breath.
But then we grow up and things change. We tend to make it through the singing of those four sentences with a smile on our face; it always helps when children are around.
We may feel a few moments of awkwardness, but it’s likely the only time in our life when we’ll hear our name in music.
If only the rest of life were set to music. If only we’d hear well-wishes sung into the air an additional 364 times per year. What words would they choose to sing to us?
Instead of an alarm clock, it’d be great if someone sang a few words about it being time to wake up. Like they do in a musical, it’d be more pleasant to hear about the beautiful morning we’re about to experience.
My mother used to wake us up in the morning by opening the stairway door, standing at the bottom of the staircase, and yelling the words: “It’s time to get up.” She did a lot of things right in her life, but this was not one of them.
After she hollered that it was time to get up, she’d pick one or more of her children’s names and holler again, letting us know it was time to crawl out of bed.
My younger brother Stevie, who had Down syndrome, was happy most of the time. When he stayed overnight at our house, he was often the first one up and about in the morning.
When he was ready for the rest of the family to get out of bed, he tried using logic on us. He’d remind us that if we didn’t get out of bed, we didn’t get to go to work. His words became an inside joke.
Each year when spring rolled around, he was glad to flip the page of his wall calendar. Like most of us, he looked forward to mild weather and the chance to be on his bicycle once again. Springtime meant he’d be able to tell others his birthday was “coming up.”
The first day of April also meant there would be intentional misrepresentation of the truth. Stevie and his friends were already good at pointing out the nonsensical things in this world.
They were skilled pranksters who knew how to make someone think they’ve got one more problem to deal with – a problem that’ll go away as soon as someone says, “April Fool’s.” If only our problems could disappear so easily the other 364 days of the year.
If you’ve visited Stevie’s Facebook page, you’ve likely seen at least one video where he was being teased about skipping his birthday party this year.
He knew it was a joke yet gladly joined in the debate about how we’d be spending his birthday. There was laughter as he stuck to the seriousness of the topic.
He also let me know there’d be cake and ice cream. He argued that candles are good for you. He knew there’d be a mailbox full of birthday cards and people showing up with gifts in hand.
Most of us would agree we learned a few things from Stevie – like how good it feels to live in the moment. To just hang out. To not take things so seriously. To remind others that candles are good for you.
And now that Stevie is no longer physically here on earth, he’s let me know there’s such a thing as an angelic prankster. He lets me know he’s still with me.
He’d celebrated 54 birthdays on earth, so we know there were at least 54 times he’d sat with a cake in front of him.
There was no question about how he’d be celebrating his big day. There’d be cake and ice cream. There’d be a song to sing and candles to light. There’d be applause.
Life gives us plenty of gifts. But choosing to have fun – that’s our gift back to the world.
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Marlene Oxender is a writer, speaker, and author. She writes about growing up in the small town of Edgerton, her ten siblings, the memorabilia in her parents’ estate, and her late younger brother, Stevie Kimpel, who was born with Down syndrome. Her three published books, Picket Fences, Stevie, and “Grandma, You Already Am Old!” are available on Amazon. Marlene can be reached at mpoxender@gmail.com