Birthdays come and birthdays go.  Thankfully.

I will never complain about having a birthday.  I’ll tell you that right now.  That means I am here.  Being here is good.

Birthdays come to us in all different shapes and sizes and forms.

My first memory of a birthday… well…. actually it is my first memory of being in any place in any time.  It was when I was three.  My birthday party.  My Grandma K got very sick that evening.  I can remember standing on the landing of our staircase on Bruce Avenue with two of my sisters… peeking around the corner.  They took my grandmother out the front door to the hospital.  They said her tummy was feeling sick.

She died a week later.

My birthday memories improved significantly from there.  Happier.  Parties. Hats. Cakes.  Presents.  Surprises.  Oh…. did I ever love childhood birthdays.

And then, at some point, it shifts.  We go to school on our birthdays, or work, or take care of kids, or have appointments.  There are things to do, and responsibilities, and this and that.

That childhood magic fades.   But sometimes…. not the expectations.  We want the party hats and the kazoos back.  Yet….  so many times… our adult-life birthdays feel just like any other day.

Oh not today.  Not for me.  This might have been my best birthday ever.  There were more beautiful and  loving surprises than I can count.    I was reminded time and again today…. how many wonderful people bless my life….  every moment.   Family, and Friends.  Sometimes the two are the same… my family are my friends, and my friends are my family. And that is golden.

Oh lucky me.  To know you and share life with you.  The best present ever.  Each and every you.  Yes.

Every single you.

“Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.” – C.S. Lewis