It’s a paternal trait to miss birthdays in my household; a rite of passage, if you will, from my grandfather to my father to me. There was always too much to do, and often, our newfound opportunities and responsibilities triumphed the need to celebrate. 

I should preface this by saying that I’m born two days earlier than my father, at the start of January–we both spent our early childhoods in the frigid winter of northern China. Had I been born a little later, we really would have had the same birthday. Still, as I was growing up, we shared the cake, the candles, and the song.

But it’s less accurate to say we “shared” all those things, implying that it was split equally, because my father always stayed for my birthday and left for work on his. I remember my sister complaining that he was off in another city or even out of the country in the space between our dates. No, it wasn’t really “sharing” a birthday because my father always gave away his to prioritize mine. I was lucky enough to celebrate myself once a year. 

Yet, as I grew older, his traits passed onto me. Up until eighth grade, Winter Break swept my birthday into the corner with Christmas and New Years; as a result, I would celebrate it either weeks in advance or months delayed. The option to celebrate at home officially left my mind in boarding school, because my birthday always landed on the closed weekend after break. I often received well-wishes from my friends, but it was a far cry from my expectations. All I wanted was a cake, some candles, on the date, and at home. I haven’t achieved all four in the last three years. This means that I haven’t been back for my father’s birthday either in three years.

Between the two of us, our birthdays were always meant to fall out of fashion. And in our minds, this posed an advantage: two missed days allowed both of us enough time to celebrate Lunar New Years. Our practical calculus came into effect this year, because my father drove me home on the Saturday of Lunar New Year for one family dinner before both my mother and I had to leave on Sunday. We both were determined to stick to the plan even as Mock Trial delayed most of my day and he had to navigate work meeting after meeting because we scraped together enough time from our other celebrations; like picking up pennies and dishing out dimes, we spent our time on a piggy-bank investment titled “Lunar New Year”.

The scurrying and last-minute alterations of my visit home this year made me appreciative of the time and effort we pool together just to see each other, especially in the moments that count. I’m physically closer to my parents compared to other boarders, so we meet as a family nearly every other weekend. However, Lunar New Year emphasizes the key aspects of celebrating: to be together as individuals, as families, and as members of a community. Value is not hidden in red envelopes or presents. More than flashy gold or clamorous fireworks, time and understanding are the rarest gifts. Thus, the essence of celebration, of pride, and of family is in coming together to view each other anew.