It’s been a busy week of birthdays across the world. Spice turned, 60.
Throughout the momentous evening, the Sweetest Friend sent me pictures.
The menu if you like to eat, was sublime.
I think Bruno would like to gate-crash and have a bit of the steak frites, I told Spice.
The day after, the glorious daughter turned, 20!
She actually made it to the very top of Arthur’s Seat and thought of me.
We need to talk soon, Mom, She texted. I miss you.
I spoke with her. Her voice with so much of England in the vowels and consonants, was a bit of a shock.
How is school? She asked patiently. Are you enjoying yourself? Have you made any friends?
Do you spend a lot of time doing work because you are very hard on yourself and want to do very well?
Then I had to put together a video clip. Up next is my MIL’s 80th birthday. I had to shoot and re-shoot. I needed to make sure, I said things like- Thank you for everything you have done for us, and still continue to do. I needed to make sure, my voice had conviction.
20, 60, 80, 100…my grandmother, the original October baby, surfaces from the abyss of my heart.
The work I am embarking on in New York is an homage to her. My mother, cousins (respective spouses), and brother spring readily to help. (Grateful!)
Maybe think of birthdays as an excuse for those who love you to fuss over you, express their love for you… I said to Spice.
Shouldn’t that be every day? He replied in jest.
What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
Where can we live but days?
Spice is right. Tell her, tell him; you love her, you love him today, tomorrow, the day after.
Ah, solving the question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.
- Days, poem by Philip Larkin
- Sublime food at Burnt Ends, 20 Teck Lim Road, Singapore
- Staircase shots- the Museum of the City of New York, 1220 5th Avenue
- Arthur’s Seat, Holyrood Park, Edinburgh- impossible to miss, good luck!