Having just celebrated my coming of age (60), with some wonderful friends, I reflected on past celebrations with wistful sighs.

From the days of fairy bread, mum’s cooking and pin the tail on the donkey to more grown up spectacles, please indulge me while I pen a few of my favourites.

Childhood birthdays have changed from when we were kids: now there are playground cafes and mums that try and outdo each other for the wow factor.

But I remember making party hats from crepe paper, putting lollies in bags for guests ( one in the bag, one in my mouth), wrapping pass the parcel and picking out a pretty party dress. Loved it.

We invited all the kids in the neighbourhood so no one missed out. Gee it was fun, and everyone won at least one prize in the games. Inclusivity at its best.

My 21st was a hoot. I was at uni, and in true uni style, instead of the invited 70, well over a 100 turned up! I did know most of them. 

Mum catered, dad was on barbie duty and my brothers were on keg watch. In true mum style, we still had enough food to feed everyone, plus leftovers to keep going!

There was plenty of alcohol and a few illicit cigarettes were going around as well (it was uni days after all!) The keg was empty pretty quickly, so a quick dash to the nearest bott’lo for a few slabs kept the party pumping until dawn.

I can still remember the night clearly: I was the only one that did not drink! And was the last one to bed.

I remember cooking eggs and bacon (thanks for the supplies mum!) the following morning for all who stayed over. Nothing like greasy food as a cure-all. There were more than a few worse-for-wear bodies strewn about; even one wrapped in the Persian rug.

I must include our German Shepherd dog in the hangover crew. He’d been caught drinking from the keg slops bucket during the celebrations (more than once) and looked a bit worse for wear the morning after. He was keeping to his bed for most of the next morning with a huge bowl of water within lapping distance.

I want to reassure the animal lovers we did ring the vet who said he’d be fine if we kept him hydrated. The vet was quite amused, apparently some dogs have a penchant for beer…anyhoo he recovered quicker than many of the humans and was enjoying a big bone by midday! 

Let’s skip a couple of decades to my 40th, so good that I can’t remember much of it! Definitely had my midlife crisis around then: turning 40 seemed to be the main catalyst for a number of life changing decisions.

One of the proverbial ‘light bulb moments’ was the realisation that life is too short not to enjoy it.

As a family we started travelling more frequently, I used the crockery and glassware I was saving for ‘best’ and I achieved a few things on my bucket list, including skydiving.

Fast forward to good ole 50.

What a fabulous time! Themed costumes were required for such an auspicious occasion. Those of you who know me would guess I channeled Cleopatra that night. I felt like a queen and very much enjoyed dancing the night away.

My 50th lingered into a week long celebration as various friends caught up with me for a drink or two, or three… I’m so lucky that most of those people are still in my life today in some fashion.

Now to my most recent birthday, which was absolutely wonderful.

A few friends, both newbies to my life and longer stalwarts gave me the pleasure of their company on a Friday night at the Warradale. No bells and whistles, just good company and chats.

This was certainly my favourite celebration to date, maybe because it’s the most recent, but more-so because those I want in my life also want me in theirs, something that touches my heart and I am so grateful for.

What and how I celebrate in future I have no idea. But one thing is for sure, those that are important to me will always be first on the invite list; I hope they will also be the first to RSVP.

Kind regards
Bel Loh 🐨

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Editor’s Note:

Bel’s piece lands close to the heart of what GreyMatter is all about — stories that celebrate life experience with honesty and humour. Her recollections echo a truth we all feel as we age: the best celebrations aren’t the loudest or the grandest, but the ones shared with people who’ve stayed through every chapter. It’s a reminder that ageing isn’t about counting candles — it’s about counting connections.