I think it would be fair to say that families are the centerpiece of most peoples lives. Small or large, genetic or contrived, most humans rely on a collective of people that bring a purpose and depth to their lives that we call family. Fortunate are those of us who do not have to look outside of our immediate relatives to find the support, love and consideration that bring meaning to the word, family.

Being in that camp has always been for me a source of pride, for no matter our shortcomings and idiosyncrasies, my relatives have always been a loving and supportive base. I never find a moment in a day that I am not aware of the blessing I have that surrounds me. Imperfect we are, but the love and support is ever waiting and present and for that I am so grateful.

The central character in our branch of this very loving extended family has always been my mother. She ensured that we traveled to relatives for regular visits, made efforts for special occasions and nurtured the relationships that she and my Dad both felt were vital to keep a strong connection to our family. I took it for granted as a child that everyone had an identical life and a mother who built that inclusive foundation through effort and love.

Consequently it was a shock to me, as I left the nest and made my way into the world, to realize that not all families where so fortunate. Everyone didn’t have the caring family that surrounded me and a loving mother as a constant presence.  The result of that revelation has been an increased appreciation of just who my mother has been in my family. Of how her quiet, steady and loving presence was the bedrock of my support and the origin of the connection that made me feel part of a whole.

So it goes without saying that as I celebrated a milestone birthday this past month, even though I felt the love and support of my partner and extended family, that I missed the ability to share my birthday with my mother.  Yes I miss my Dad and of course I wish he were still here with us,  but the sad irony is that my mother still is. She is living life with me but no longer able to share it with much capacity as a result of her dementia. It became just another occasion around which we could not create new memories or even share the old.

I have always marked the milestone birthdays with a celebration and this one would be no different. Turning 60 years old for most people may be a birthday they would choose not to embrace. But for me each birthday marks a gift of life that I am fortunate to still live in good health, when so many others are not afforded that blessing. So I choose to celebrate.

At a time when I was so sad that I would do so without my mother and lamented about her inability to share my milestone birthday with me, good fortune intervened. My childhood friends, ten of them to be exact, decided to create a celebration weekend away to acknowledge our 60th birthdays. Renting a house on a lake, we looked at pictures, told stories, shared laughter and heartache. Our collective childhood memories of 48 years ago came rushing back with fondness and joy.

As I was missing my mother and wished I had her to share memories and celebrate a continued good life, in walked my reinforcements to fill in the gaps. It goes without saying the memories my friends shared were NOT the ones I experienced with my family, thank God! But the love, the history and the laughter was there all the same.

The cliche that family comes in all shapes and sizes was never more true than this last celebration. Although I am fortunate to have a devoted partner and relatives a plenty for love and support, my friends, old and new alike, continue to be a central part of my life. My matriarch, my mother, was sorely missed by me this birthday, even as she lives among us. But I am eternally grateful for the extension of love that is available to me year in and year out from my friends. I find my center through my connections to my family and am proud to count my friends to be among them.