When I wake up everyone greets me with a "Happy Birthday!" which is usually followed by reaching of their pockets and giving me whatever they have. I'm really happy about it and I thank them in response. The most I had was an accumulated P500 with my parents, grandparents and an uncle each giving a hundred peso bill.
Those were the time that all that ever mattered for me was to have a birthday celebration at home. It's usually a very nice celebration with all my relatives attending my birthday, balloons and at least 10 different dishes in the table. I don't receive lots of gifts though but I remember receiving cash from my extinct Godparents.
I get to invite our neighbors who are mostly just our relatives. No! Actually all that I ever invited to my birthday were my relatives. But you know, during celebrations such as birthdays and fiestas you can't help strangers to come in the house and eat. The best thing about celebrating birthday as a child is the preparation. Whenever it's my birthday or my siblings', well let's just say it's my birthday, everyone's busy preparing the food except for my Grandpa. He's really not into that though but anyway there's my grandma in charge of the kitchen. My Dad and Uncle helps my Lola with the main dishes while my Mom's preparing the dessert upstairs. I also remember my Grandmother signing a cross on my forehead using, probably a chicken's blood during my birthday. Aside from all the preparations, I always like it when we go to Church to light a candle and then pray during my birthday. I feel so good afterwards but I feel better when my Dad would ask me "Where do you wanna go?". Then I would whisper "Jollibee!". :-)
The best thing I've ever received on my birthday was a pair of shoes. Those were the shoes I cried for when I was a freshman in high school. It was my birthday then when my Mom told me that she couldn't buy me new shoes. It was my only request but because we were on some sort of a financial turmoil that time my Mom couldn't give me anything on my birthday.
Looking back, I remember how I was really immature that I couldn't understand our situation. That same day, I went to an abandoned house just right behind our house crying about the shoes. I locked myself inside and cried until I fell asleep. The moment I woke up my Dad was knocking on the door with the shoes on his hands. That afternoon I realized how selfish I was but of course I felt thankful and happy afterwards. Since then I never asked or requested anything from my parents. :-) I also accepted the fact that I'm too old for birthday parties and even cakes.
Last year, my birthday post was about the Paranoia of being 20. This year I couldn't care less about how old I am. All that matters to me now is to be Happy on my Birthday! :-)
