Happy 30th Birthday!
Last night we celebrated our son’s 30th birthday at a wild and hilarious Onesies Party – outside! in Onesies! on a freezing Melbourne Winter’s night!
“7pm – late” the invitation said and it was certainly every bit of that. The stump of the old grapefruit tree was kept blazing through the night while a bizarre gathering of animals and other creatures chatted about old times and – even more bizarrely discussed the wicked problems holding society in its claws. The bonfire under the stars, the conversation pit around the copper fireplace on the deck, the fridges – portable and fixed, the constantly changing food choices and eclectic music videos were only condiments for the main course: friends and family from 30 years of life coming together in one place to honour one person. It was wonderful to be part of it all.
This morning I thought back to my 30th Birthday. How different that was!
Five months earlier I had made a massive shift from the rural foothills of Melbourne, where I was a cook in an Anglican Summer Semester on a live-in campus, to living alone in a tiny workers cottage a stone’s throw from Toorak Road in the upmarket urban culture of South Yarra. I now worked as a Finance Broker’s PA in a 2-man partnership that was in serious trouble. On the morning of my birthday one partner and I waited for the other to go golfing as was his typical behaviour. As soon as he left we set to packing exactly half of the partnership into boxes – right down to counting the stationery and postage stamps – and moving it and us to a tiny cottage in South Melbourne. The files that we took were only those of ‘our’ side of the partnership. It was dark by the time we had set up the new office and the power was not yet connected. We were exhausted from the intrigue and adrenaline rush that had by now left us spent. As we sat on the floor by the light of his torch, we shared what was left of the sandwiches I had bought for lunch. “It’s my birthday,” I said. “How old?” “My Thirtieth.” “Happy birthday, Lynne. And thanks for today.” We ate on in silence then stood up stiffly and, without another word, made our respective ways home, each to lonely rentals. Tomorrow would be another day and my big birthday had slipped through to the keeper.
