I’m not one to brag–but, I recently celebrated my birthday. At this age, my birthday is not depressing; it is a day for happiness.
There wasn’t a big party, but I shared doughnuts with a group from church and lunched with friends. The folks at the gym and I ate oranges and muffins following our workout. I laughed over pizza with old friends from my hometown and enjoyed a night of cards with folks John and I have played cards with since the 70s.
Birthday cards from family, college roommates, and other friends from the past arrived in the mail. It was wonderful, too, to receive Facebook birthday wishes, especially those from the high school years. Each Facebook “happy birthday” brought a pause to my day (watching Gunsmoke, Bonanza, and The Andy Griffith Show as I put away Christmas decorations and did laundry). I smiled and remembered each sender of good wishes.
Finally, there were phone calls, texts, emails, a special hand-drawn card by my three-year-old granddaughter, and a meal shared with family to round out the birthday event.
So, the Christmas decorations are stored away, the laundry done, and I am now a year older. I am blessed.