Today is my birthday. It’s just another day. I really hate birthdays. I wasn’t always this way. My best birthday memory was when I was six. It was the first and last time my parents had a kiddie birthday party for me. My worst birthday was when I was fourty-four years old. I was told not to come to my parents house because of the way my arm looked. I was recovering from the incident of having my arm broken by two men. My parents were having my cousins over and said didn’t want me to come over. They did not want to have to explain what happened to me. Out of sight, out of mind. I begged and pleaded to my parents to let me come over. I landed up in a safe place for a few days. I found solace on a locked down psychiatric unit. I ended up getting a special birthday cake. A little cake make by the kitchen staff. That is my birthday birthday story ups and downs. I live with total disfunction and denial by those around me. Today I will not celebrate my birthday. I told my Mother don’t bother baking me a cake. We were going out to eat dinner but one of my sons cannot be there. I want him to be there for me. So my birthday gets shoved to a different day. A day when it doesn’t signify anything but another ordinary day. My youngest son wants Baker’s Square. So tonight I will spent a night with the one I love them most……My precious youngest son. Life is about living and dying. I started living when I was born in a country so far away from the United States. I died. I died the day my arm was shattered at the the hands of two men. Today I am reborn into a new life through Celebrate Recovery. I thank God every day for Celebrate Recovery. With Celebrate Recovery, every day is my birthday. I am blessed.