I’ve loved my birthday for as long as I can remember. (Honestly, probably since I was an infant.)
Every year, I wake up on February 16 feeling excited. Not because of presents. Not because of a big production. But because I feel so incredibly lucky to be me—to live the life I live, to love the people I love, to still be here.
Turning 62 feels groovy to me. It digits add up to eight. And eight, turned on its side, is infinity. The gates to heaven. Who knows? I sense it’s going to be a spectacularly lucky year. I choose to think so.
(Although, if I’m being practical, I wouldn’t mind being 65 already—Medicare sounds pretty fabulous compared to $3,000 a month in health insurance. But that’s another story.)
The Wish
For years—long before social media—I have had a little ritual. When my cake is set in front me, and the candles are lit, I turn to my friends and family who are gathered and say, “Make a wish with me.”
And then I tell them my wish. My wish is always the same: I wish that your wish comes true. That’s it. That’s my birthday wish.
I’ve always felt so blessed. So grateful. And I’ve never wanted to keep that feeling to myself. So if I’m blowing out candles, I want everyone around me—whether they’re sitting at my table or scrolling on their phone—to pause for a second and send something hopeful out into the world. That’s just quirky, kooky me.
The Cake (Always Lemon)
Yes, there is always cake. And yes, it is always lemon.
This year, my dear friend Dr. Mary, who once cooked with Julia Child in France, made me the most extraordinary lemon cake. Lemon curd between the layers. Lemon cream cheese frosting. Caramelized lemons on top. Fresh chamomile flowers were placed around the dish to make that extra-ordinary touch become extraordinary! It was endlessly memorable.
Candles are essential, but I don’t need the count to match my years. I always have simply two. One for the birthday. One for the year of good luck ahead.
As Eleanor Roosevelt was thought to have said,"Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery but today is a gift—that is why it is called the present." And it's the reason I honor this moment.
I Always Theme It
I do theme my birthdays. I decide where I want to be and what I want the energy to feel like. Some years I’ve celebrated at home, other years in foreign lands. This year, I’m having tea at Claridge's with a few friends who live in London. That just feels right for 62.
And my gift to myself? A tarot card reading with Melissa Mercury, a noted tarot reader in London. I am so excited about it. There’s something beautiful about sitting with possibility—about asking, “What do the cards want me to know?”
Why It Matters
When your life is grounded in the promise of Happily Ever Always™, you’re not chasing the next thing. You’re settling into what matters. For me, what matters is gratitude. Intention. Sharing the good stuff. Sending light outward instead of holding it in.
So on February 16, when I blow out my candles, I’ll do what I always do. I’ll close my eyes. I’ll take a breath. And I’ll wish that your wish comes true, too!
Go ahead. Make one right now!
