In the house I grew up in the Bronx, your birthday passed either with nothing or a couple of grunts that vaguely sounded like "Happy Birthday." Birthdays came and went and it was up to you to keep score of how old you were. Let me at this point offer a disclaimer "My 13th Birthday - My Bar Mitzvah" was a huge bash held at the Elsmere Caterers. I am referring to every other birthday of my youth.

My wife, Lorraine, on the other hand, came from a family where your date of birth was heralded and celebrated with gifts and kisses and warm wishes. My children were led to believe their birthdays were national holidays. This is true, even today, when they are now all over 30 years of age.

My first inkling that Lorraine was planning something for my 70th was when I received the charge printed on her charge account. The Fox Hollow in Woodbury was to be the place. Next, four invitations came back marked "Postage Due." Lorraine had chosen an odd-sized envelope and the US Post Office was demanding 12 cents more to process the cards by hand. One envelope was not sealed perfectly and with the slightest prying, Voilá, it opened. Nov. 21 was to be the chosen day.

Should I reveal my knowledge or just "play dumb"? After 41 years of marriage, Lorraine knew that I knew but she kept every other aspect of the "party-to-be" a tight secret. I was practicing in front of the bathroom mirror how to feign surprise on the glorious day.

We arrived at the Fox Hollow, trying carefully to avoid invited people so as not to ruin the "surprise."

I was truly shocked and surprised when I entered the beautifully decorated room.

My neighbors, my childhood (intra-uterine) friends, my nieces and nephews, my long-lost cousins, my sister, my brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law from Maryland, my classmates from dental school, my dental laboratory technician, my children and grandchildren and assorted good friends we had enjoyed during the four decades of our marriage. People had traveled from Florida to be at my party.

I needed a drink! Unfortunately, it was the first of many. The food was delicious. A disc jockey played Frank Sinatra and other tunes of the '50s and '60s.

The speeches from friends, children and relatives made me cry!

Honestly, I have never felt so loved in my entire life.

Kissing the ladies and hugging the men was a chore that was glorious. I loved it.

Lorraine had my entire life in pictures and posters in the back of the room. How did she do it all?

The party was not a surprise, but the depth of feeling and the table settings and little favors were "awesome."

I must say in truth - "I don't deserve it!"

But I'm glad Lorraine did it anyhow.