I turned over another year yesterday. It was in many ways the perfect birthday. My guys took me out to dinner at a local bistro where I indulged in rare steak, Barnacle Boy baked me my favorite cake (rainbow angel food) and Math Man and I managed a lovely evening walk. Math Man braved the Internet with help from his IT support staff (aka my sons) and got me a mug with the warning "Not a good girl" and an 'inspiring' photo to help me get my game face on. I totally love it."What did you want for your birthday?" someone wondered. Truly? A block of time large enough to fold and put my laundry away. Though if you are asking about miracles, a fairy to clean my office and study would not go amiss!
There is always a bit of bittersweet in my birthday, a touch of winter's chill lingering in spring. Twenty-three (that many?) years ago my birthday was a gloriously warm Palm Sunday after a dark, damp winter. I threw all caution and class prep to the wind to play tennis with my husband. It was a joyous day, I had not a care. Tuesday I drove home early for a rehearsal for the Triduum. Wednesday he drove down to pick me up from a late night faculty meeting. He never went home.
Sitting in the sunwashed warmth of the bistro on Monday evening, the occasional wisp of winter worry drifted through the door.
No wonder you always understand mine.
ReplyDeleteThat's this life, right? Always in the valley of the shadow of death, but still mysteriously in Easter.
God bless.
{{{{{Michelle}}}}}
ReplyDeleteRainbow Angel Food.
ReplyDeleteI think that cake really says it all, doesn't it?
Having just come through the powerful experience with my friends of losing a loved one during Holy Week, we were discussing how always it will be "Ann died on Good Friday" not so much the day of the month.
Maybe.
Maybe it will be both.
And surely it will never be a day forgotten.
Love and hugs and prayers to you, dear friend.