Eamonn Holmes looked delighted as he was surprised with a birthday cake to celebrate turning 66 on Wednesday.

The presenter was joined by his GB News colleagues on the breakfast show where he was given the sweat treat.

He proudly held up the bake and gave a smile as he sat next to his co-host Ellie Costello.

He also opened a special birthday present from sports broadcaster Paul Coyte while on air.

Swiping at Paul for the Tottenham Hotspur wrapping paper, Eamonn – who is a Manchester United supporter – was elated as he opened the gift to reveal a Captain Scarlett model vehicle.

‘That’s joyous!’, Eamonn told Paul, before gratefully shaking his hand and thanking him for the gift.

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Eamonn Holmes looked delighted as he was surprised with a birthday cake to celebrate turning 66 on Wednesday

The presenter was joined by his GB News colleagues on the breakfast show where he was given the sweat treat

His birthday surprise comes after his ex wife Ruth Langsford recently told how she turned to therapy to cope with their acrimonious split.

The Loose Women presenter revealed her struggles at their separation after 14 years of marriage, which saw Eamonn quickly move on to date relationship counsellor Katie Alexander, who is 22 years his junior.

Ruth, who has a son Jack, 23, with the presenter, said it has helped her unravel their romance, which lasted 27 years but ended in June 2024.

She said: ‘I started counselling when Eamonn and I separated, and I’m still having it. It is very powerful and very useful. It gives me tools to deal with things.

‘My counsellor has probably seen us on TV, but she doesn’t know either of us so doesn’t get involved and doesn’t judge. She just listens and says, ‘Have you thought about this?’ or ‘Why did you feel like that?’

‘I think I know myself very well, so it has just been calming. It makes me question how I’m feeling. When my sister died, friends suggested counselling and I said, ‘I don’t [want] just [for someone] to tell me that I’m really sad,’ and I still feel like that.

‘The end of a very long relationship takes a lot of unravelling. Counselling helps you move on from it, to not be held back.’

The pair announced their split 18 months ago after several months of arguing. He left the £2.5million family home in Weybridge.

His birthday surprise comes after his ex wife Ruth Langsford recently told how she turned to therapy to cope with their acrimonious split

Eamonn and Katie looked fully loved up with his girlfriend Katie as the pair attended John Caudwell’s charity event last Friday evening.

Eamonn used just his walker to steady himself as he smiled beside Kate, 43, as they arrived at the billionaire’s £150 million home in Mayfair.

Katie opted for a full glam look for the evening as she wowed in a ruched purple brown dress which she paired with a brown fur look jacket.

The couple were also joined by former boxing champ David Haye and his girlfriend Sian Osborne for the charity event.

Eamonn’s appearance at the event came after he issued a heartbreaking health update earlier this week.

During a recent live show on GB News, the star was covering the current investigation into Peter Mandelson for urinating in the street in London.

Eamonn then explained that due to his own battles with spinal issues, there are times when he simply ‘can’t wait’ when he has to go to the bathroom.

‘I’m getting over a medical condition, and I just can’t wait,’ he said to his co-host Ellie.

‘And then (Mandelson) was in the street. But what else is the man to do? Knock on someone’s door and say, ‘Would you let me go and have a pee in your house?’

‘Most people are going to say, how dare you, I’m not going to do that. So I’m saying there is a difficulty in public about where you actually go to relieve yourself. That’s the thing.’

Eammon then admitted that bosses were telling him to swiftly move the breakfast discussion on and took a swipe at them for not viewing the topic with more nuance.

Ruth revealed her struggles at their separation after 14 years of marriage, which saw Eamonn quickly move on to date relationship counsellor Katie Alexander (seen together), who is 22 years his junior

‘And as my producer says in my ear the give away is next. They’re obviously not interested in this dilemma or how it relates to me identifying with it,’ he said.

The presenter’s health woes significantly worsened in 2021 when he had spinal surgery that resulted in complications that have left him needing a wheelchair.

The television personality said that he is forcing himself to ‘battle on’, admitting that his health is now so poor that he requires the assistance of carers.

Eamonn told Sunday World: ‘I have to have carers now looking after me. Somebody dresses me in the morning, somebody undresses me at night, somebody gets my food for me.

‘I have to be tested with spinal injections to see if it will take, and then grow some life back into my spine and legs. It’s all very experimental. I’ll know next week. I’d say this is the toughest stage of my life ever. And I just battle on.’

Eamonn Holmes had expected nothing more than an ordinary workday when he arrived at the GB News studios on the morning of his 66th birthday, a day he had quietly resigned himself to treating as routine. Birthdays, once markers of celebration and joy, had become subtler for him over the years, especially in the wake of personal upheavals, health struggles, and the emotional exhaustion of navigating life in the public eye. He had never been one to demand grand gestures or fuss. A simple greeting, a warm message from his children, perhaps a phone call from an old friend—those were the smaller, quieter joys he cherished most. But as he walked into the bustling newsroom, he had no idea that his colleagues had planned a surprise that would lift his spirits more than he could have imagined. When he was suddenly met with enthusiastic applause, smiling faces, and the unexpected sight of a cake glowing with candles, he stood there frozen for a moment, overwhelmed by the collective warmth directed toward him. It was a simple moment, yet profoundly meaningful—because in that moment, he felt seen, supported, and valued.

The cake itself, decorated with a mix of humor and affection reflective of the newsroom’s lively atmosphere, represented far more than sugar and candles. It symbolized appreciation, camaraderie, and the deep connection he had formed with the GB News team—a group that had rallied around him through difficult chapters of his life. Over the past year, as he faced emotional turmoil surrounding his public divorce, alongside chronic pain and mobility challenges that reshaped both his personal and professional routines, his colleagues had become a kind of surrogate family. They had seen him on good days, when the old familiar spark returned to his eyes, and on difficult mornings when pain shadowed his movements and he needed assistance simply to work comfortably. Their decision to honor him on this day wasn’t merely a standard workplace tradition; it was an acknowledgment of the resilience, perseverance, and unwavering dedication he had shown in spite of the obstacles he faced.

For Eamonn, the surprise carried emotional weight because it reminded him of something he often struggled to admit: he was not alone. In moments of health decline or emotional vulnerability, the world can shrink, making a person feel isolated even in crowded rooms. Divorce, especially one played out in public, further intensifies that sense of solitude. But as he stood there, listening to the chorus of voices singing “Happy Birthday,” he felt the kind of belonging he hadn’t experienced in a long time. These colleagues weren’t merely coworkers—they were companions in a turbulent chapter of his life. Their laughter, their heartfelt words, their insistence that he take a moment to savor the celebration all combined into a moment that etched itself into his memory.

He smiled as he blew out the candles, the room erupting once again in applause. The cameras captured his expression—part gratitude, part vulnerability, part quiet reflection. Viewers saw a man humbled by the kindness extended toward him, his usual witty remarks momentarily replaced with softer, more heartfelt words. He spoke briefly about how much the gesture meant, thanking the team not only for the celebration but for their ongoing support. Those who knew him well noticed the wetness in his eyes, the small tremor in his voice that revealed just how deeply touched he truly was. For someone who had spent decades navigating the pressures of broadcast journalism with a blend of professionalism and humor, allowing that vulnerability to show was significant.

The morning continued with on-air mentions of his birthday, playful jokes from colleagues, and heartfelt stories of shared memories behind the scenes. His co-hosts recounted moments that showcased Eamonn’s wit, knowledge, and generosity. They spoke of the advice he had given them, the times he had quietly encouraged newer presenters, the compassion he extended when cameras were off and real-life struggles surfaced. In many ways, the celebration became a testament to the kind of impact he had made—not just on audiences, but on the people who worked closely with him. It reminded everyone watching that television personalities are not merely performers; they are human beings with histories, struggles, triumphs, and vulnerabilities.

As the day progressed, Eamonn found himself reflecting more deeply on the passage of time and the shifting landscape of his life. Turning 66 was not merely a number—it was a milestone that symbolized endurance, transformation, and the accumulation of both joy and hardship. He thought about the early years of his career, when broadcasting was a dream he chased with youthful ambition. He remembered the countless studios he had worked in, the breaking-news moments that shaped public consciousness, the interviews that challenged him, humbled him, or filled him with pride. Through all those years, one constant remained: his love of the craft. That love was what still drew him into the newsroom each morning, even when his body protested or his heart felt heavy.

Yet alongside professional reflections came personal ones—reflections on his health, his changing mobility, and the divorce that had reshaped his life in ways he was still learning to navigate. Birthdays often act as emotional mirrors, reflecting back not only achievements and milestones but also losses, regrets, and the tender areas of life that remain unresolved. For Eamonn, the past few years had been marked by difficult transitions. Chronic pain had forced him to relinquish some of his independence, a painful reality for a man who once moved through the world with effortless confidence. His separation from Ruth had further dismantled the familiar structures he had known for decades. These emotional shifts were not easily articulated, but they lived quietly beneath the surface of his daily life.

And yet, this birthday—this simple, heartfelt celebration by his colleagues—served as a reminder that even in seasons of transition, there is room for unexpected joy. He had not expected to feel lighthearted today. He had not expected to laugh so freely, or to feel genuinely happy. But as he shared cake with his team, listened to their stories, and absorbed their good wishes, a warmth spread through him that softened the edges of his grief. In that moment, he allowed himself to receive affection without deflecting or diminishing it. He allowed himself to feel celebrated, not out of obligation but out of genuine affection from the people around him.

In the newsroom, conversations continued long after the candles were blown out. There were playful questions about how he planned to spend the rest of the day, humorous comments about age and wisdom, and gentle reminders that he should take time for himself amid his demanding schedule. His colleagues teased him affectionately, remarking on his ability to combine charm with curmudgeonly humor, a balance that had made him beloved by audiences for decades. Each interaction added a thread to the emotional tapestry of the day—a day that, without their intervention, might have passed quietly, perhaps even painfully.

Viewers who watched the celebration unfold on television or through behind-the-scenes clips were quick to express their admiration. Social media filled with messages praising his resilience, celebrating his milestone, and acknowledging the joy he brought into their homes each morning. Fans reminisced about the years they had spent watching him on other networks, their fondness for his interviews, or the comfort of hearing his voice during times of national crisis. Many expressed a kind of protective warmth, knowing the emotional and physical challenges he had endured recently. The cake and celebration became a symbolic moment—not just for him, but for everyone who had followed his journey.

Later in the afternoon, when the cameras were off and the newsroom quieted, Eamonn sat at his desk for a moment of private reflection. He thought about the unexpected sweetness of the day, the way laughter had carved through the heaviness that often shadowed him. He thought about how quickly life could change, how relationships could shift, how pain could cloud even the brightest moments—yet how humans still found ways to lift each other up. He realized that while he had lost certain things in recent years, he had also gained new forms of support, new sources of strength, and new reminders that joy could emerge unexpectedly, even on days overshadowed by emotional complexity.

He sent personal messages of gratitude to colleagues who had organized the surprise, acknowledging the effort and thoughtfulness behind it. Their replies were simple yet heartfelt—wishing him health, peace, and brighter days ahead. It reminded him that kindness, even in professional spaces, is powerful. It reminded him that people cared not only about the presenter they saw on screen but the man behind that persona.

As evening approached and he prepared to leave the studio, he felt a quiet contentment settle within him. The day had been more emotional than he anticipated, yet in the best possible way. His steps were slower, his body weary, but his spirit lighter. Outside, the sky was beginning to darken, streaked with the faint colors of dusk. He paused for a moment to take in the stillness. Birthdays often invite reflection, but this birthday had offered something unexpected: affirmation.

It wasn’t the grand, sweeping affirmation of public accolades or career milestones. It was the intimate, personal affirmation that comes from human connection—from the warmth of colleagues who had become friends, from the kindness of gestures that asked for nothing in return, from the reminder that life still held moments of celebration even when shadowed by pain.

As he drove home, he let his thoughts wander through the chapters of his life—the successes, the losses, the laughter, the heartbreak. He thought about what it meant to turn 66, to enter a stage of life shaped by both wisdom and vulnerability. He thought about the future, uncertain yet full of possibility. And he carried with him the sweetness of the morning’s surprise, a memory that would shine brightly long after the candles were extinguished.

For Eamonn Holmes, turning 66 did not erase the challenges he faced. It did not cure his pain or mend the wounds of his divorce. But it did offer a moment of gentleness in a world that had been too harsh lately. It offered connection where he had felt distance. It offered laughter where he had felt heaviness. It offered light where shadows had lingered.

And sometimes, that is exactly what a birthday should be.

As the day softened into evening and the newsroom lights dimmed, Eamonn Holmes found himself carried along by emotions he hadn’t anticipated when the morning began. There was something undeniably poignant about turning sixty-six, especially when life had felt so heavy in recent months. Yet the unexpected warmth of the celebration lingered inside him like a gentle ember, glowing quietly long after the applause had faded and the last crumbs of birthday cake had been cleared away. It wasn’t just the gesture itself that moved him—it was what the gesture represented. It reminded him that even in seasons of hardship, there are pockets of kindness waiting to be discovered. Even in chapters marked by loss, there are pages of joy still being written. And even in the midst of personal turmoil, the world still finds ways to remind you that you matter.

At home, the evening unfolded slowly. He settled into his favorite chair, the one that he had learned to navigate carefully ever since his mobility issues had worsened. His body felt the dull ache of a long day spent sitting, standing, shifting, and smiling. But his heart felt strangely light. He placed his walking stick beside him, eased back, and allowed himself a rare moment of peace. The house was quiet—too quiet sometimes—but tonight the silence felt less like loneliness and more like space. Space to reflect. Space to breathe. Space to understand why the simple act of being celebrated had affected him so deeply.

He looked around the room, noticing the familiar objects that had remained steadfast companions throughout his life: framed photographs, stacks of books, mementos of decades spent interviewing politicians, celebrities, and everyday heroes. These objects told a story of accomplishment, of history, of a man who had lived fully and passionately in the world of journalism. Yet even with all that experience behind him, he realized that the things that truly mattered on his sixty-sixth birthday weren’t accolades or achievements—they were the human connections that had sustained him.

He thought back to the smiles on his colleagues’ faces as they gathered around him with the cake. The laughter. The way they teased him affectionately. The way they insisted he make a wish before blowing out the candles. And he remembered how the room erupted into applause when he did. That moment held a kind of purity—uncomplicated, unforced, rooted not in the roles they played on-screen but in genuine affection. It reminded him of something he’d forgotten: that people often care more deeply than we allow ourselves to believe.

Birthdays carry a unique emotional weight as we age. They become less about celebration and more about contemplation—markers of time that ask unspoken questions: How far have you come? What have you lost? What remains? What still lies ahead? For Eamonn, turning sixty-six brought all these questions forward, especially after a year marked by upheaval. Yet instead of being overwhelmed by them, he found himself feeling grounded. He recognized that his life, though altered, still held meaning. He recognized that even as certain relationships changed, others grew stronger. He recognized that although his body sometimes failed him, his spirit remained resilient.

He thought of the viewers—millions who had followed him across networks and platforms, who had sent messages of support during his health struggles, who had expressed empathy during his divorce. Their loyalty, their affection, their recognition of his humanity had carried him through some of his darkest days. And now, on this birthday, he realized how deeply he valued that connection. He had always tried to bring authenticity to his broadcasts, believing that people responded not to perfection but to sincerity. That belief had sustained his career. Now it sustained him personally.

As he sat in his quiet home, he let himself feel the fullness of that gratitude. He had been blessed with a career that gave him not only purpose but community. And the celebration that morning was proof that community still embraced him. It was proof that he had not been forgotten or left behind, even at a time in life when people often fear becoming invisible.

Yet beneath the gratitude, there was also tenderness—a tenderness shaped by grief and healing. His divorce had left emotional fractures that still caught him off guard. There were moments when he reached for memories he no longer shared, moments when routines felt hollow, moments when silence stung instead of soothed. But slowly, he had begun to accept that life after separation wasn’t just an ending—it was an invitation to rediscover himself. His sixty-sixth birthday had, in many ways, accelerated that realization.

He thought about the people who had walked alongside him through his recent hardships. His children, whose love had been unconditional, offering him comfort during moments when pain made him feel vulnerable. His friends, who checked in, sent messages, arranged dinners, and made sure he never felt forgotten. And his colleagues, whose support extended beyond the newsroom—who understood the emotional battles that lingered beneath his professional façade. These relationships had become his pillars, stronger and more essential than ever before.

As he continued reflecting, he began to understand why the birthday cake had moved him so deeply. It wasn’t the cake itself—it was the symbolism. A cake is a gesture of celebration, of togetherness, of acknowledging someone’s existence in the world. And for Eamonn, receiving that gesture at a time when he sometimes questioned his own relevance was profoundly affirming. It told him, without words, that he still belonged. That he still mattered. That he was still cared for—not as a broadcaster, but as a person.

He remembered the exact moment when one of his colleagues placed a gentle hand on his shoulder after the surprise and whispered, “You deserve this.” That phrase echoed in his mind now. You deserve this. It struck him because for so long, he had been bracing himself against loss—loss of health, loss of marriage, loss of old routines. In bracing himself, he had forgotten to acknowledge the good that still found him despite the pain. He had forgotten that deserving joy is not something you earn—it is something you are allowed simply because you are human.

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, letting that truth settle within him. He deserved to be celebrated. He deserved kindness. He deserved love in all its forms—professional, familial, platonic. And perhaps, when the time was right, he would deserve it romantically too. It was a thought he didn’t dwell on, but its presence hinted at a heart that was beginning, however cautiously, to heal.

Outside, the evening deepened into night. The world beyond his window felt vast and unknowable, yet not as intimidating as it had once seemed. Aging, he realized, was not a collapse into irrelevance but an accumulation of perspective. At sixty-six, he understood himself more deeply than he had at forty or fifty. He understood the fragility of human connection, the resilience of the human spirit, and the importance of finding joy in unexpected places. He also understood that life is unpredictable—not only in its hardships but also in its blessings.

He allowed his thoughts to drift to the future. He wondered what the next year of his life might hold. He wondered how his health might evolve, how his career might shift, how his relationships might deepen or change. He wondered whether he would continue finding joy in the small, unassuming moments—moments like the laughter of colleagues, the warmth of a cup of tea, the quiet of the evening. He wondered whether he would learn to trust happiness again after so many months of bracing for loss.

In the darkness of his living room, illuminated only by the soft glow of a lamp, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time: hope. Not the naïve hope of youth, but the steady, mature hope born from surviving heartbreak and emerging with a more compassionate understanding of himself. Hope that tomorrow could bring something good. Hope that life still had surprises—in the form of friendships, opportunities, healing, and maybe even new love. Hope that turning sixty-six was not a closing chapter but an opening one.

He reached for his phone, scrolling through the messages he had received throughout the day. There were hundreds—friends, colleagues, fans, family members—all wishing him joy, health, peace. Each message was a reminder of the connections that stretched across the contours of his life. Some brought laughter, some brought tenderness, and some brought tears he didn’t bother to hide. These messages, like the cake, reminded him that he was held by a network of people who valued him.

For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe it.

As the night wore on, his eyelids grew heavy, but the warmth within him remained. He knew tomorrow would bring its own challenges—pain that needed managing, responsibilities that demanded his energy, emotions that might resurface without warning. But tonight, on this birthday, he felt fortified. The kindness he had received had gone beyond celebration—it had seeped into the cracks of his heart, offering repair, offering light, offering the reminder that even in seasons of emotional winter, warmth still finds its way.

He breathed in deeply, letting gratitude expand inside him. Gratitude for his past, gratitude for his present, gratitude for the unknown future that awaited him. Gratitude for being alive, for being loved, for being celebrated. Gratitude for the simple truth that despite everything, life still held moments that could make him smile.

As he slowly rose from his chair and made his way toward the bedroom, leaning gently on his walking stick, he carried with him the soft glow of the day’s memories. They were not loud or dramatic, but they were meaningful. They were enough.

And as he turned off the last light, letting the quiet embrace him completely, Eamonn Holmes ended his sixty-sixth birthday not in loneliness, but in peace—in the comforting knowledge that even in the most unexpected moments, life continues to offer sweetness, connection, and reasons to hope.