these are days you’ll remember

a lot of us remember where we were for our twenty-first birthdays. or, a lot of us don’t remember, but we remember our hangovers enough to remember that they must have been memorable. my friend Juan Victor recently turned twenty-one, and i had the great privilege of being a guest at his birthday party—surely the most memorable celebration i’ve attended in my almost-thirty years.

he was waiting for me when i got home from work, dressed in a new (used) shirt tucked into his (brother’s) black pants held together with his (broken) belt. Juan’s younger cousin Ali put gel in his hair and another cousin Jorge sprayed him down with his bottle of cheap cologne. his aunt Martha bought a liter of Coke and our friend Jenni came over with a block of ice, which we knocked against the side of the house to break into smaller pieces for our cups. Juan’s cousin Wendi made beans and rice with pieces of hotdog cut up in it, and we made one cake with raisins. there were no invitations, no real presents to speak of. there was no icing on the cake, and there was no alcohol.

we hung out on the stoop, sat in the dusty street and bounced some marbles around on the cement patio. i wore my camping headlamp because the patio light was busted. we sang, laughed, and Juan Victor showed us some of his sick dance moves when we turned the music on. at the end of the night, Wendi told me that Juan had never celebrated his birthday before. she said this in front of him, in a way that was shocking, like it was almost too embarrassing to mention out loud, particularly in front of him. i looked over at his smile, which was bigger than his whole face, and his happiness appeared to be so wide with the present celebration that it seemed there could be no room for considering any past disappointments. and for the first time in my life i think, i felt a deep gratitude for what it really means to complete another year.

there may be no adequate way to celebrate that kind of gratitude. but we passed a really great night together, eating slices of dry cake with raisins off paper napkins, celebrating another year in the life of this man, who will forever be a boy.