What is a “birthday” anyway?

So, I wanted to poke them and say, it’s my birthday. I wanted to blow out candles and eat carrot cake. I wanted to open presents and be the center of attention. It didn’t seem fair that my birthday didn’t seem to matter, and then I had to remind myself what was happening in front of me was real. No. I wasn’t in a dream. We had just made the decision to move my brother to hospice and let him transition peacefully. No. It wasn’t fair.

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