Every Year is a Gift

My birthday was August 2nd. Usually I love birthdays and enjoy marking them for others, as well as myself. This one, though, seemed neither here nor there. 67 wasn't a biggie, on the way to 70, and how did I get here anyway? I didn't sleep well several nights prior to the big day. Dreams, thoughts and concerns wafted through my active unconscious, letting me know I was not at ease. Although I am excited by life-affirming possibilities, my very human worries surfaced. Did I need to revisit my will? Was my family OK? Would my own health checkups return good reports? Was I doing enough for others? Too much? Would the new book that I'm writing continue to flow? My husband needs a new car. Should I bug him to buy the hybrid that I thought wise for both us and for the environment? Or should I encourage him to purchase the gas guzzler that I knew he wanted? Who would win the election?

Large and small concerns ebbed and flowed into one another - all, I'm sure, part of an underlying scream that emerged as death's door opened just that much wider. The big day came and unexpected calls, emails, cards and yes, gifts arrived. Although still in my "this is not a big deal birthday mode," I appreciated acknowledgments, well wishes and the friendship and love that came my way. But, deep down, I wasn't my usual celebratory self. Until

My husband and I went out for the quiet dinner we had planned. We happen to have a wine locker at several restaurants including The Capital Grill in Jacksonville. Last week they called and invited us to have dinner there on my birthday. That's not uncommon for a restaurant to do when one is a frequent patron. I thought nothing of it. NOTHING! It seemed as good as anything we might do except maybe staying home relaxing on our porch and enjoying the view.

Then they didn't have our usual promised table. I shrugged. So what? And as I was gently guided into a lovely special room, brain dead and totally without a clue, Happy Birthday wishes engulfed me sung by many of my Florida friends. I, who am rarely speechless, was. Tears came. This was the first surprise party of my life. I looked questioningly at my husband still implying "but this particular birthday is no big deal." Lovingly he looked at me. "Hon, henceforth, every day is a celebration. Every day we look in the mirror and see ourselves is special and every year is a gift."

Amen.