For 18 years (and then another 62) we celebrated our birthdays together. Me on May 7 and Grandma on May 8. Some years, like this one, Mother’s Day is also in the mix. Twenty years ago, May 2 became our very own Gotcha Day and thus, with this celebratory triumvirate, John Lac and I continue the long tradition of angel food cake with pink buttercream frosting.

Being part of that generation that took up the mantra to never trust anyone over 30 I had trouble in the weeks leading up to that birthday but Richard (already in his fourth decade) smoothed the rough edges for me. Fifty was fun and 60 even better as I knew retirement was close and within a year I developed a detailed four-year plan outlining major tasks to be accomplished before May 2017. But 70 is being a bit of a mental challenge as I keep wondering how I suddenly got so old. I may just need more pink frosting.
I remember my mum on her 70th telling people it was her 60th and she’d genuinely forgotten it was her 70th…she turned 80 last year and I wondered if she’d mistaken it for 70. I’m approaching my 50th and a few times I’ve accidentally said 40th…these decades start merging a bit don’t they!
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I forgot to say Happy Birthday
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