My dad - God bless him - never had a clue as to what to buy, but would give me money to do the honours for Mum once I was old enough.
The first time he helped me to buy Mum a present for Mothering Sunday - I was young, primary school age - he told me to pick the colour. It was a soup ladle..."B...but...You said you needed one!"
Dad's family were all peasant farmers in Eastern Europe. His generation didn't do birthdays and they certainly didn't do Mothering Sunday. (I'm now taking language lessons and this has just come up in a recent lesson. Apparently, celebrating the birthdays of adults only came over from the west in the last couple of birthdays.)
Yes, birthdays matter.
My late husband and his ex had a significant birthday a fortnight apart. We were given to understand that the kids - by then middle-aged - wanted to host a joint celebration for them. Not that strange - by then, we had a cordial relationship with his ex. Her third partner (if you include DH) had died and we'd supported her.
We heard nothing from the kids. The ex mentioned she was going on an 18th birthday trip with the daughter and granddaughter. (I was taking her to and from a day procedure when the ex told me.)
When we saw the pics on social media, the only family member not there was my disabled husband. (It turned out that his son hadn't been told that he wasn't invited. The daughter's explanation was "I didn't think you'd want to come.")
The joint birthday month came round. We saw pics online of the ex having cake and a birthday tea with the kids, a trip to a West End Musical and cocktails at a London bar.
Nothing more was heard about DH's birthday. He was sent half a dozen cans of beer and two polo shirts. (I got a phone call asking about DH's size. His ex apparently knew what they were buying and tried to persuade them that they should order a Medium. DH needed a Large.)
In the meantime, we organised DH's birthday dinner. He told me what he wanted and whom to invite. He was quite firm - his kids were not invited.
To this day, they don't know that he had his party without them. He invited his friends and his siblings.
I admit that I cracked about a month or so after DH's funeral, but they still don't know about his party. We're now NC.
Being upset over a birthday might seem trivial, but it can be the final straw.