My birthday in times of COVID

Likes, DMs, Zoom, WhatsApp, cauliflower, and a chocolate cake

I’m not big on celebrations, especially birthdays. Let me correct that. I’m not big on loud, distracting parties when I want to celebrate. It is counterintuitive, and I’m sure I’ve missed a lot of fun.

For me, celebrating is about pausing, reflecting, unplugging from the routine, and rewarding oneself for whatever. Today, for staying alive.

Embrace social media

Having been at home for weeks on end, I decided to do something different. I did not invite my friends to a zoom call with drinks in hand. Nor did I do anything extraordinary. I simply kept my birthday visible to the public on Facebook. It turned out that I also kept it on LinkedIn. To my professional network, sorry about that.

As you all know, my friend Mark (Zuckerburg) and the folks at LinkedIn ensured that everyone was reminded of the happy occasion.

Why stop there? I also changed my profile picture for a day (Facebook lets you do that) and commented it with: “55 years younger. What would he tell his older self?”

For those 24 hours:

Friends on Facebook and connections on LinkedIn made an effort to click that “Happy birthday” link. Hundreds of them. Imagine. They can fill a whole movie theater.
Some personalized their message. Others ‘liked.’ Fewer DM’ed.
I received a handful of voice notes on WhatsApp.
Had a zoom call with my family and another with a close friend.
The only human socially-distanced encounters were to sneak out for a delicious home-made lunch and receive a surprise cake from a buddy I walk with.

My takes

Birthday cards, phone calls, and emails were not in the picture. No hugs. No three kisses. No loud conversations around a good meal.
And still, it felt warm.
Some wished me happy times ‘despite the situation.’ You could hear the pain on the other end.
I’m sure some saw the social media reminder and preferred to think of me and send good vibes through the ether. I get it.
Everyone was saying, ‘I care.’ In return, I’m grateful.
For the future and as one friend suggested, why not set up an open house through digital conferencing where friends can pop in, chat with me and with other friends.

For my friends in sorrow

You have lost and are still losing loved ones to COVID. I’m no exception. While this is true worldwide, I feel that the Lebanese's trauma is exceptionally more difficult. It’s like our nation is going through endless trials just as God tested Job in the scriptures. So much is going around that I’ve given up on calling, messaging, or sending anything.

My ritual is to take a minute to think of the departed and the ones who are still with us trying to make sense of it all. I can’t help but think how unfair things can be.

Just as life ends, life happens. We mourn. We change. We continue. And, if you subscribe to what I believe, we wait for the day when we all meet again. Somewhere. Somehow. In some form.

*My third birthday. All adults in the picture have passed. What would we talk about when we meet again?*

So, what did he say to his older self?

“Have a caramel Pierrot Gourmand. It’s heartwarming!”

And a good cup of coffee from the last 27 grams of my Starbucks beans. My black french press tasted sweet and special, like everything that runs out.