Birthday treasures...

Over the weekend I celebrated my birthday. And although I’m still in the same age bracket as last year when those random internet surveys pop up on the internet, I’m definitely creeping up enough to notice the effect of another year that has tick-tocked itself right off the calendar.

For me, birthdays are a little bit like New Year’s when I take a look back at where I’ve been, where I am and where I’m hoping to go. I get that feeling of a fresh start to a new year of whatever life has in store for me. And in the middle of all that life are the people I have had around me along the way.

Sure, it gets wacky. You lose track of friends you had when you were ten, eighteen, twenty five, etc. You are in and out of relationships. You make new friends at work and at play, new family members are born or get married into your life, etc.

And so on my birthday, I was blessed to be thought of by many of those people who I’ve circled the earth with for a period of time. And they are truly, each in their own way, treasures.

BJ was the first to say Happy Birthday. She brought home flowers, took me to dinner, got me a present and then brunch the next day with her cousin and his wife and baby. My in-laws all called.

My mom called and recounted the story of when I was born…eh hem….six weeks early and at 3am. I was a 7lb premie. Good thing I was early.

My family called throughout the day. My almost 15 year old nephew texted me. That was quickly followed by a text from my almost 12 year old niece, who must have been standing right next to him.

My aunt, away for the weekend celebrating her own birthday, called from the car with her friends and sang a fantastic (possibly wine induced) rendition of Happy Birthday.

My sisters emailed and then called, taunting me about my new age. I reminded them they’ll always be older than me.

My grandmother left me a voicemail asking if I was out or suffering from a big head. Now, I suppose I’ve been told I have a big head at times, but clearly she meant a hangover. In her card she also recounted her version of when I was born. As my parents rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night, she rushed to relieve the neighbor who was at our house with my sisters who were sleeping. She said she couldn't sleep a wink, but not because of anticipation of me being born, but because “Ernie” - the turtle that my father had brought home for us - was scratching at the dishpan he was in, trying to get back to his pond friends. My grandmother was panicked he was going to crawl on her head which was next to his pan near the couch. But, she said, it was worth it because then I “came along.” A grandmother’s memory is one of the truest treasures there is.

I had a fun, long conversation with my father. “I saw my last daughter being born, I’d like to be in there,” he told the doctor as they rushed my mother into the room. “I’ll be back to get you,” the doctor answered. He came back, “Well, Mr. Cote, congratulations, you have another daughter.” Apparently I was in a rush to get going on this journey. His final thought was, “I mean, what can a turtle do to you anyway?”

Some of those friends I had when I was ten, eighteen and twenty-five years old, whom I recently got reacquainted with, all wrote on my “wall” and sent me emails, as did some new friends who I’ve picked up along the way from here, there and everywhere.

My anchor and co-workers took me to lunch, bought me some cool presents and sang Happy Birthday around an amazingly, perfect birthday cake.

And what started the whole treasure fest of a birthday was my present BJ bought for me. Which was, well, a treasure box. She got it off of Rosie O’Donnell’s charity page on Etsy.com. As many of you already know from reading my blog, Rosie built an art center (the Maravel Arts Center after Pat Maravel, a woman who took Rosie under her wing and into her family when Rosie’s mother died at age 10) in the theatre district that caters to kids who come from some of the poorest sections of NYC. They are the kids who are in the public school system where art, theatre and music have been ripped out of the curriculum. They are the kids who don’t have a shot at anything and who would most likely never get out of where they are if it weren’t for this new art center that some of them get the privilege to attend. But in order to keep the center running, Rosie has taken it upon herself to continue to do her part to raise more funds for it.

Most of you know she is a former talk show host, television, film and Broadway actress. And yes, an outspoken, loud, activist. But some of you may not know she’s also an artist and all around crafty person. In order to raise more funds, she puts some of her artwork up on Etsy.com and all the proceeds go to the center. She also matches, dollar for dollar, the money brought in on that page. I have visited the center, watched some of the kids rehearse. I smelled the new paint, polished floors and brand new equipment. The center is one giant goosebump of pure positive energy. So the fact that my birthday present was going to help out the center was a gift on its own.

But thrown in was a little bit of a bonus. Apparently when BJ bought the treasure box off of Rosie’s etsy shop online, there is the option to “contact the seller.” So she emailed Rosie and told her it was my birthday and that she bought the treasure box for me and even though it was already autographed, she wondered if she could personalize it before shipping it.

And she did.

When I opened it and flipped it over I saw her familiar signature. And then added on the bottom was - HAPPY BDAY DEB (C9).


The box came filled with fun little trinkets to get me started on my next year of new memories and new treasures.

And because of all of you, just like the box, so is my heart.