Ok, I’m doing something I don’t usually do. I’m doing something mildly uncomfortable: I’m writing an editorial about… my birthday. Yes, my birthday. I know — it feels about as natural as throwing myself a surprise party.
But hear me out.
Birthdays for grown-ups can feel awkward. But after surviving cancer and everything that followed — surgeries, complications, long hospital stays— I stopped pretending. I started meeting my birthday the way an 8-year-old does: with wide-eyed gratitude that I get to have another one at all.
Because every additional year I get is not something I take for granted. In fact, I consider every additional year a gift. I think back at some of the people I met at the cancer center, who didn’t make it. Indeed, every additional year is a gift.
After being officially labelled a “cancer survivor,” I promised myself that if I was going to celebrate being alive, I’d do it in a way that made the world a little lighter for someone else, especially someone in need.
So I began “donating” my birthday— turning all the fuss and attention into fuel for the work of the Greek America Foundation. Every year since, we’ve turned the number of candles into real support for people who need it. And honestly? That’s the part that makes the awkwardness worth it.
Because it transforms my birthday from “Greg’s getting older” into something much bigger than me — a ripple that reaches far beyond my own little orbit.
When I started at 51, with a goal of $5,100, I never imagined we’d hit $10,000. But people showed up. And every year after that — 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57 — we’ve matched or surpassed the number.
So here I am again. Year 58. Goal: $5,800.
If you’d like to be part of it— no pressure at all, truly— here’s the link. It would mean the world, not because it’s my birthday, but because the work it supports genuinely matters.
Thank you for even reading this far.
