Happy birthday to the world and my son

When my eldest son was born, we knew he would often be sharing his birthday with the High Holy Days. Born at the end of September and just days out from Rosh Hashanah (his bris was actually meant to be second day), he came along to Rosh Hashanah dinner and lunch like a little boss, decked out in his apple-covered onesie like the good little Jewish boy he is. His second birthday fell on Succot, but it took until his sixth birthday for the clash with Erev Rosh Hashanah to happen.

While some would think it would be hard to share a birthday with Rosh Hashanah, especially as a child – spending the day in synagogue and not seeing any of his friends – my son revelled in it.

With me and my sister busy in the kitchen preparing for the dinner onslaught, my son went on an adventure with his dad, his uncle and his cousins. And according to him, it was the “best day ever” because they won against the adults in laser tag.

And then even more special, all eyes were on him and his Sonic the Hedgehog marble cake during dessert, as we celebrated the beginning of a New Year and the beginning of his next year.

Don’t worry, there was still honey cake too.

And then he celebrated the next day at shule and lunch and at second night Rosh Hashanah dinner with the other side of our family. Triple whammy birthday.

For me, it was especially poignant to celebrate the birth of my first child on the same day that we welcomed the new year. Rosh Hashanah celebrates the birth of humanity, it’s a celebration of life. And I have always viewed my eldest child as the one who gave me back my ability to live. After losing my mum to pancreatic cancer just 18 months before he was born, he was the one who brought back my smile.

The following year though, things were a bit trickier. His birthday fell on Yom Kippur. Not only could we not celebrate, but we couldn’t even enjoy food with him. And it felt very sacrilegious to whip up a fun meal for him to eat.

Knowing this was going to happen, we made a big fuss of him on the Friday night before with a snakes and ladders cupcake cake and showing a level of maturity that I never expected – I’m still trying to figure out where it comes from – he went about his birthday like it was no different to any other. But he did insist on a cricket bat cake to have with his cousins over breaking.

He was smothered with love at synagogue and then we broke the fast as Sephardis do with cake, fruit, cheese samosa and date barbas and his beloved cricket bat. I’m pretty sure I heard him declare it as the “best birthday ever”.

While he’s just a kid and he saw the fun in everything, having my son’s birthday two years in a row during the High Holy Days has made me think about the significance of this time of year.

Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are a time of deep reflection. We reflect on our years gone by and we look to the year ahead. We consider what we could have done differently and we promise to do better. We repent for our sins and ask for forgiveness.

While so often we are the teachers when it comes to our children, it also made me think about the lessons we can learn from them.

It would have been very easy for my son to pout and moan about his birthday falling on the holiest day of the Jewish calendar. And I’m pretty sure if it was my birthday coinciding with a fast day, that would have been my response.

But instead, he chose to look at all the positives. His family were all home from work and school. He got to see his extended family during shule services and those who weren’t coming to synagogue were able to pop in to give him a birthday hug. He could chill and play all day with his siblings and his cousins. And he finished the day with a dinner of desserts.

When faced with tricky situations, kids seem to find this awesome resilience. They seem to get over things much faster than adults do. They find the rainbows in every drop of rain. Perhaps it’s their innocence or perhaps it’s because they haven’t yet been jaded by the world like we have. Regardless of the reason, I realised that I could and should be living my life like him.

I personally will never know what it feels like to have a birthday over Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. I got the fun festival of Chanukah. Each year, I race to find out whether my birthday coincides with the festival of lights and if so, how many candles will I be lighting alongside my birthday cake.

I get to share my birthday with miracles, doughnuts, latkes and light.

And I count myself so lucky to have my birthday at such a celebratory time of year.

But I’ll never dread the fact that my son’s birthday will often fall during the Days of Awe. Because while we celebrate him, we celebrate humanity, and we celebrate everything positive and beautiful we can become in future years.

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