Happy Birthday

There is a cake in front of me. White and round with pink flowers on it. Candles on top..a lot of them. It almost looks like the sun has descended to the earth. And in the darkness it illuminates the smiles of those around me. My  family, my friends and a few strangers..

There a hundred candles. They sing the happy birthday song and clap. They tell me to make a wish and blow the candles. I do not know what to wish for. And I am not able to quite blow out all the candles. They help me do it. Then they cut the cake and give everyone a piece. I get a piece with a pink flower and a letter on it. 

I don't feel the hundred. I feel normal. I try to think of a few previous birthdays..I can not. So this is how 100 feels like. I try recollecting a few incidents and I draw a blank. Most of my memories are from the recent years. I panic, my breathing grows shallower. What about the other years of my life?

Slowly they come to me in snatches. My mother cradling me on her lap when I was in the clutches of fever. My father taking me for a walk along the beach. My brother stuffing his socks on my nose. Playing on the streets with my cousins. Side way glimpses of my husband during our wedding. My daughter opening her eyes for the first time. Decorating our new home and falling down the ladder trying to make the awkwardly-hung picture straight. Running to meet our new puppy. My daughter crying because the boy she had a crush on did not even know she existed. My son walking his first of many steps. The school runs, the graduations... The happy happy weddings of both my children. The trivial detail of dropping my dinner plate on a new carpet. The paper-pressed roses from the bouquet my husband gave me for our first anniversary.The arrival of my grandchildren; the pride I felt on being a granny. The memories of those grandchildren bring a smile on to my face. Their stick drawing of granny with black hair and a red smile.

I don't feel a hundred.I feel normal.Yes, my eyesight is a little blurred; yes, you have to speak louder in my presence; yes, you have to walk a little slower. But I feel normal. And my years are intact with me.

I finally wish- for a strong memory- to hold on to the tiny little synapses, as long as I live.

Happy birthday to me.