Sarah Nigbor

The day this column is published will be my 46^th birthday. How that is even possible, I don’t know. It was just yesterday that I was 8 and celebrating my golden birthday, wasn’t it? That year in 1988, was one of the most severe droughts in Wisconsin since weather records have been kept, according to the U.S. Geological Survey.

According to the Wisconsin State Journal, “a large deficit in rainfall from April through mid-July 1988 and unusually high temperatures from June through August produced drought conditions that stressed crops and caused crop-related losses. Drought appraisals by personnel of the Wisconsin Agricultural and Conservation County offices indicated that drought-related crop losses in the State in 1988 exceeded $900 million.”

How does this relate to my birthday? Because after days and days of heat with no rain, a torrential downpour broke on my birthday. I remember standing in the driveway with my face turned up letting the water cascade down over me. It felt so cool and refreshing.

I’ve celebrated multiple birthdays, especially milestones, with big shindigs. Of course, 21 was a big one being able to go out (legally) to the bars. A friend of mine had a popular local rock band, and my friends and I were loyal groupies. We spent the night dancing at what was then the Doll House in Hammond. Let’s just say the headache the next day was extraordinary and leave it at that.

My 24^th birthday, while not a “milestone” was notable because I went canoeing with my mother and best friends on the Namekagon River near Trego, Wis. We stayed up late around a campfire telling ghost stories and freaking each other out. While swimming, I got trapped by a current and was taken out into deep water where I had to be rescued by my friends due to a leg cramp. That was embarrassing (and exciting).

My 25^th birthday was spent singing karaoke with my friends and co-workers at Philander’s Grill & Bar in Prescott. No karaoke event was complete there without my boss Jim singing Louie Armstrong, or his brother Mike singing Elvis. That was one of the best nights I can ever remember, surrounded by so many people who loved me.

My 30^th birthday was again spent singing karaoke at Philander’s, with many of the same crowd. Why ruin a good thing? I used to belt out “Sin Wagon” by the Dixie Chicks with the best of them. I still belt out tunes in my car, much to the chagrin of my children. Those were the good old days, though I didn’t know it at the time.

My 32^nd birthday I was big as a house, waiting for the birth of my darling daughter, Carolina. She was born July 11, 11 days past her due date. She dug her heels in and didn’t want to come out then either but had to via emergency C-Section. She still likes to take her sweet time, so not much has changed in that department. She was the best birthday present I ever received.

Not long after my 34^th birthday, I went skydiving for a news story I was reporting on while working for the New Richmond News. Nothing will ever compare with the terror I felt leaping out of that plane, or the joy that soon followed while swirling lazily above the beautiful terrain. I finally knew what it was like to fly like a bird. When I landed on my feet, I was ecstatic to be alive and exhilarated by what I had conquered.

My 40^th birthday was during Covid, so my family tried to make it as special for me as they could. I woke up to the five of them inches from my face, blowing party horns and wearing ridiculous hats while screaming happy birthday. I was treated to breakfast in bed and a picnic road trip down the Great River Road. It was a perfect day.

I don’t know what 46 has in store for me. I don’t feel 46 most days. One thing I have learned as I’ve gotten older is to enjoy the little things, each and every day. You never know when they may be gone in an instant. Maybe that’s why I don’t need big parties anymore to celebrate. Every day I have on this earth is reason to celebrate.