The importance of birthday parties

Rituals and Grief

I’ve lived all over the place. It’s all I’ve known, as that’s how I grew up. So I feel quite grateful that I have a disposition where I am curious about others, and enjoy learning about new cultures. I’m not perfect in this aspect, and I have my own personal likes and dislikes. But who doesn’t.

And, I have a personal ethnic background that I come from. The kind of identity you take for granted, because it is so ingrained in you, it’s like asking a fish if it can see the water around it.

Birthday parties were always a big deal for me, growing up. Wherever we lived in the world. Many times we invited friends over from the neighbourhood, or friends in general. Much of the time however, birthday parties were family events. A special time for family to get together and celebrate the birth of one of our own. Homemade cakes, candles, prettily-wrapped gifts, singing Happy Birthday, and LOTS and LOTS of pictures. I mean…LOTS.

Birthday parties are an integral part of my own ethnic identity as well. A thing, a specific ritual we keep doing for decades, that many of us take for granted; because we assume everyone celebrates birthday parties with family, the way we do.

Looking back, birthday parties were my integral connection to my family. The people who knew me the most, and the best. Who’d seen me at my best and my worst, and still loved and accepted me. Who knew me for life.

And while birthday parties were always a big deal for me, growing up, I took them for granted. So ingrained in me, was the ritual. I saw them as a fish would see water – I didn’t. It was just always there. A part of me. A thing I needed, to keep living. A part of my identity that went straight to the core of who I am. Where I hail from. The rich tapestry that is my ancestry.

What I knew in my blood, that I took for granted, is birthday parties were my family’s way of celebrating my entry into the world. The joy I bring them. To celebrate my life and existence. Through all the trials and triumphs.

Birthday parties were the place where I was Seen, Accepted, and Loved. For all of me. By the people I loved the most.

So, I assumed everybody celebrated their birthday with family, for life. I assumed all of us had that ingrained, internal, lifelong connection to our blood.

And this is what I took for granted. What I assumed happened in all cultures and all families. So ingrained into my cultural identity was this knowing. I assumed everyone got to feel Seen, Accepted, and Loved. For all of themselves. At their birthday party.

The senseless tragedy that befell a family this week, only serves to drive home the importance of family to me, and the rituals and traditions we hold dear. The things we take for granted, so ingrained in us, are they. The values I hold dear — like the tight-knit value of family, above all. Whatever, and whoever, I now consider family to be.

This weekend, for as long as you can, hold your loved ones tight. Check in on the ones who might be missing family. Who go quiet, who might be struggling.

All of us need a version of that kind of birthday party.