Mary Schmich: One measure of COVID-19: Almost every living American has had a pandemic birthday

By the time this is all over, every American will have celebrated at least one pandemic birthday.

A friend made that comment the other day and it’s an obvious thought, really. Anyone who has had a birthday since March 11, 2020 — the day the World Health Organization declared the pandemic — has celebrated a pandemic birthday, and given that we’re far from the end of this ordeal, it’s evident that every person who survives the next few weeks will.

Still, the comment was startling. What a strange, universal experience the pandemic birthday has been, what a curious measure of this rare moment, even though “celebrate” might not be the right word.

Celebrate suggests joy and a social gathering. A pandemic birthday comes with a taboo on gathering, and while there’s still joy to be found, it’s inevitably coupled with loss.

Even in easier years, not everyone loves their birthday or feels a need to mark it. The pressure to be festive can feel like oppression. But we’re trained from childhood to pay attention to the date we were born, and for many of us marking it is meaningful. It’s a day we can take stock of time, hear and say “I love you,” think about how far we’ve come and where we’re going. It’s a day for ritual, and ritual grounds us.

But the pandemic has robbed us of birthday rituals. Blowing out the candles now risks spreading deadly aerosols. Ditto for singing “Happy Birthday to You” in a group.

Birthday parties? They still happen, in defiance of science and cautions, but too often they’ve turned into super-spreading events.

In the pandemic, a birthday is no time for widespread sharing of cake, for the clinking of glasses in a restaurant or bar, for hopping on an airplane in the hopes of making the aging process more scenic.

No, this has been the year of the stay-at-home birthday. The drive-by birthday. The Zoom birthday. The takeout birthday. For birthdays proclaimed by yard signs and balloons, neither of which spits disease into the air.

And yet despite all that, for a lot of us a pandemic birthday hasn’t been all bad. It’s just been different.

A few days ago my friend Barbie celebrated her birthday by convoking a small group of friends to take a socially distanced walk along the lake. We met that morning in fat jackets, boots and masks. As we walked, we remembered her last birthday, how we’d gathered around little tables, mask-free, sharing food, laughing loudly, telling stories. We missed that.

But when our walk was done, we had to admit: This birthday celebration would be unforgettable.

That’s one plus for the pandemic birthday: We won’t forget.

I remember my pandemic birthday in late November. In the freezing dawn, with a sense of urgency I don’t remember feeling on other birthdays, I went to the lake to watch the sunrise, prodded by the thought that if ever there was a year to connect with the big forces, with the great mysteries, this was it.

Later, I had a Zoom birthday dinner with my usual birthday crowd, only this time instead of gathering in a restaurant, each of us sat at home, dining on the restaurant’s takeout. Unforgettable.

These pandemic birthdays may be less noisy than the birthdays we remember or desire, but they come with a special gift — they make us more aware of life. In this year when death is constantly in the news and in the air, we’re reminded how silly it is to complain about getting old. This was the year, as all years should be, to appreciate that getting older is a privilege.

When I started thinking about pandemic birthdays, I immediately thought of my sister-in-law Eloise, who died in July, and whose life was very hard toward the end.

She had her pandemic birthday in April. She sent an email that day, in which she mentioned the coronavirus, which was on her mind a lot (though it wasn’t the cause of her death). She also sent a photo, of Colorado snow blanketing the ground and trees.

“Do you know that my birthday gift was a foot of snow?” she wrote. “This morning, the sun on the snow is mesmerizing!! Another gift, as the sun hits one branch but not another. Happy day!”

Is there a better attitude to bring to any birthday? To recognize that sunlight and snow are gifts, even in a pandemic?