Every year, my two old friends and I celebrate each other’s birthdays, and it all started when I was in my thirties. At that time, I had just had a baby and felt a deep sense of melancholy, as having a child made me confront the passage of time. Witnessing birth made me reflect on my own aging and mortality, and I realized that raising a child makes you profoundly aware of life’s cycle. So, celebrating these milestones every few months became a way for us to honor not only our friendship but also the passage of time, with joy and gratitude.
Every April, we gather to celebrate my friend E’s birthday, and perhaps it’s no coincidence that, like the cherry blossoms, she’s bright, outgoing, and has a knack for making everyone smile. Our friendship spans from our twenties, and over the years, we’ve shared not only birthdays but all the private, personal, and family moments that shape us. These gatherings are more than celebrations; they’re reminders of how far we’ve come and the life we’ve built together.
Even now in our forties, we keep the tradition alive. Every time, one of us brings the cake, another brings a quirky topper, and we belt out an exaggerated birthday song, making the birthday girl blush. Even if the whole café stares—balloons, loud songs, and too many camera shots—it’s our way of reminding each other that we’re still here, still celebrating, and still each other’s biggest cheerleaders.
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