Usuals Are Also Celebrations

That day, on my birthday, someone casually asked, “What’s special today?”
Without much thought, I replied, “Nothing, just the usual.”
They looked puzzled and asked, “Why?”

That simple question got my mind racing.
I hadn’t bought a new dress, nor did I cut a cake like every other birthday before. It was just me, my mom, and my Gabbar lounging around at home. My mom, despite being unwell, prepared my favorite meal, and we all sat together to enjoy it.

As I write this, my eyes well up with tears because the entire day replays in my mind. I remember how everyone around me called to wish me, how Instagram stories popped up celebrating me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it didn’t feel like my birthday.

I felt lost and heavy-hearted, weighed down by the realization of how much I value the people around me—their love, their presence, their care. It wasn’t the lack of gifts or parties that made me sad; it was seeing my mom, my source of endless excitement, now unwell on a day that once sparkled with joy because of her.

In the quiet of that day, I realized something profound: celebration isn’t always about grand parties or extravagant gestures. Sometimes, it’s the simple moments that hold the most meaning. It’s a quiet meal with loved ones, my Gabbar snuggled next to me, my mom trying her best to make me happy even when she’s unwell. It’s us watching a Christmas movie on Netflix and feeling the warmth of just being together.

I thought of my younger self, who would be bursting with excitement over gifts and festivities. Back then, the joy of my birthdays was amplified by my mom’s enthusiasm and energy. And now, seeing her unwell, I understood how precious those memories were—and how precious she is.

That day taught me a valuable lesson: usuals are also celebrations. Love, presence, and togetherness don’t need loudness to be meaningful. Sometimes, they shine the brightest in the quietest moments.