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  • Writer's picturejodi

March Break Baby

March Break…

the Canadian equivalent of Spring Break.

Which is a great time to celebrate a birthday,

when you’re a bit older.

But in elementary school,

it was a different story.

As a March Break Baby

I felt that I missed out

on the celebration at school

with my school friends.

Which I did.

March Break Babies birthdays were never celebrated at school.

The class didn’t sing “Happy Birthday”.

No cupcakes handed out for the class either.

Nothing.

As if the day didn’t even exist because we weren’t at school when it happened.


Although I say it’s something I missed out on,

maybe I wouldn’t have been able to handle the attention.

The singing to me from an entire class of my peers,

may have made me too emotional.


The first birthday that I remember,

was when I was turning 4.

We were in Daytona Beach -

See! A perk of being a March Break Baby!

I recall being in the motel room with my family.

My parents, my brother, my aunt & uncle.

And as the singing began,

a cake glowing with candles was carried to the table.

I ran to hide behind curtains that covered the window.

Overwhelmed with emotion.


Fast forward 4 or 5 years later,

to my cousins 10th birthday party.

Lots of fun. Lots of people.

A Lot of his friends.

My aunt walked out the back door of the house with the cake.

And the candles.

Everyone started to sing.

I felt a bubbling over of emotion within me.

My eyes began to burn with tears.

Joy. Happiness. Gratefulness of being… alive?

That he’s alive.


There is something about the singing of Happy Birthday,

that always strums a chord deep in my soul.

It doesn’t matter if it’s being sung to me or to someone else.

It’s Something that always makes me well up with tears.

Even when I tell myself -

“It’s just a song.

Don’t cry.

You know it’s coming.

Brace yourself.”

It doesn’t really work.

I always feel the emotion start in the pit of my stomach and rise up to my throat.

The type of feeling that if you open your mouth,

Your voice will crack and the tears will spill.

There is something about the singing collectively in celebration of a life,

that overwhelms me with a deep gratitude.

An intense emotion that I cannot control.

Even after all of these years,

With so much practice.


So if there has ever been a time

or there ever is a time to come,

when I am not singing loud enough

Or perhaps

that I am only mouthing the words,

Please don’t take offence.

I’m trying to withstand the dry throat that

cracks my voice,

which will inevitably be followed

by the spillage of tears.

Because at that moment

overwhelming gratitude is bursting from my soul,

In celebration of you.


P.S. The photo attached to this blog post was sent to me by my brother as I typed this. Ironically the photo is from the Daytona Birthday that I had just referred to.

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