Just Another Reason To Party

I’m not a person who feels tied into age. Age, to me, is a number, and really nothing more. When asked my age, I often have to stop and think. I am fortunate, (I guess), to have friends and family who, apparently keep up with these things…

Every year, as my birthday approaches I encourage everyone to see things as I do. “It’s just another day!”, “I really don’t need presents.”, “I don’t eat birthday cake.” Last year, on September 2nd, I announced I was done having birthdays. I mean, what’s so special about them? Everybody has one! They are like belly-buttons…

This year, as the day approached, my daughter called, wondering how I was celebrating Labor Day. I really hadn’t thought about it. She wondered if she, her friend, and her friend’s new, and completely darling daughter could visit. A son called. He was up for a cook-out. Another son called, also looking for free food…So, the plan was set. Labor Day cookout at my house!

A couple of days ago, I heard, again, from my daughter, who, in her best little girl voice, wondered, hypothetically mind you, if I WAS going to eat birthday cake, not that I would, what kind of cake I would like. I thought for several seconds before telling her, and with that I made a decision. I was having a birthday party. Did I say party? Make that a birthday blowout!
And here’s the reason we have birthdays…

I slept in this morning, just because I could. I checked on Dad who is stubbornly riding the storm out in Destin. And the calls started, interspersed with texts from people, some from whom I rarely hear, who appreciate my being here. As I took the calls, I opened my mailbox to an assortment of good wishes. Sweet!

Around 1:00, my grill master arrived with a variety of meats and mysterious seasonings, and set about preparing to cook out. As the guests arrived, they were greeted by loud music, and louder laughter. Red wine made everyone a better dancer as children ran between our legs, glorifying in the luxury of a game of chase inside the house!

The food was great, the company wonderful, and everyone left feeling just a little better for having shared my day.

And, as for me? I was queen for a day! Cared for, pampered, and fawned over by family and friends. I ate food I rarely allow myself, I drank good wine, I danced to my favorite music, I watched my children enter the house as sophisticated adults and revert back into playmates in the way only siblings can, and I laughed.

As the party ended, and guests began to filter out, my daughter brought the baby to me. She is gorgeous, with Asian features, and soft, marshmallowy limbs. She played with my jewelry, babbled sweetly, and threw her toys to the floor in front of us in sweet anticipation of a ride down to pick them up.

Pudgy hands flayed desperately in an attempt to rub her sleepy eyes as she nestled into my side, and we napped…

Friends, it just doesn’t get any better than this…

>Just Another Reason To Party

The food was great, the company wonderful, and everyone left feeling just a little better for having shared my day.

Pudgy hands flayed desperately in an attempt to rub her sleepy eyes as she nestled into my side, and we napped…

Friends, it just doesn’t get any better than this…

Rollercoaster of Love

Spent the better part of this morning carrying a large rock, dead center, in the middle of my chest…

And, then the questions began…

“What are you thinking about?”

“Are you having a good day?”

The phone rings, and I grope, desperately into and around the seat behind me to get it before it stops. And I do. And it’s not him…

And the reassurances…

“I love you, Mom…”

And the “click” on an empty email icon…

And the caring…

“You can’t drive around like that. Let me take the car in for you. We’ll settle up later…”

And…silence.

And laughter at shared experiences, and the wonder of physical prowess, and sweet rest, much needed…

A day that began in tears, and ended in gratitude.

And, I will ride again, tomorrow…</div

>Rollercoaster of Love

Spent the better part of this morning carrying a large rock, dead center, in the middle of my chest…

And, then the questions began…

“What are you thinking about?”

“Are you having a good day?”

The phone rings, and I grope, desperately into and around the seat behind me to get it before it stops. And I do. And it’s not him…

And the reassurances…

“I love you, Mom…”

And the “click” on an empty email icon…

And the caring…

“You can’t drive around like that. Let me take the car in for you. We’ll settle up later…”

And…silence.

And laughter at shared experiences, and the wonder of physical prowess, and sweet rest, much needed…

A day that began in tears, and ended in gratitude.

And, I will ride again, tomorrow…</div

Almost…

The sadness;

of dreams I never knew I had, lying unrealized…

of plans, and hopes, and wants, and desires, unrequited…

of letting go, with love…

of looking back, without remorse…

of moving forward, without…

of realizing that another soul, a mirror to mine, exists in allegiance to another, less deserving…

of releasing the person I could have been, and almost was…almost.

>Almost…

The sadness;

of dreams I never knew I had, lying unrealized…

of plans, and hopes, and wants, and desires, unrequited…

of letting go, with love…

of looking back, without remorse…

of moving forward, without…

of realizing that another soul, a mirror to mine, exists in allegiance to another, less deserving…

of releasing the person I could have been, and almost was…almost.

Sidetracked

Started this day with the best of intentions, got sidetracked, in a pleasant kind of way…

Then rushed around like crazy getting all dolled up; flouncy skirt, flirty heels, the works, to make my nephew’s Eagle Scout award ceremony.
Drove 25 miles, ended up horribly, horribly late…and then a disconcerted 25 miles back…

One day….one day I’ll fall in line. I’ll always know the right thing to say, the right thing to do, and the right time to leave….

Every hair will be in place…

I’ll dress appropriately…

And smile on command….

Well, maybe not

>Sidetracked

Started this day with the best of intentions, got sidetracked, in a pleasant kind of way…

One day….one day I’ll fall in line. I’ll always know the right thing to say, the right thing to do, and the right time to leave….

Every hair will be in place…

I’ll dress appropriately…

And smile on command….

Well, maybe not

Almost Touched

I live in hot, and now arid, Atlanta. A city that moves at the speed of light, and barely notices that it hasn’t rained in months or snowed in years.
A much-needed break in our drought came some time around November, and the rains fell. The lakes are still wanting, but reservoirs are filling, allowing the lakes to hold their precious raindrops a little longer.
Today, it snowed. The weathermen were right, for once, and it snowed! As I sit in my tiny car, forced upon me by the length of my commute and soaring gas prices, I idle, as I do every day at this time, waiting for other weary commuters to pass on an adjacent roadway.
The snowflakes dancing across my windshield are a miracle only a true southerner could enjoy, and I muse as I watch them fall and melt, fall and melt. I enjoy the whiteness of them, their fluffy, irregular shape, and their rarity.
Glancing to my left, I see a small bespectacled boy, buckled snuggly into the backseat of his mother’s Mercedes. As my gaze lands on him, he spies the swirling miracle outside his window and stretches one pudgy hand towards the window in the kind of pure joy only a child can experience. His swarthy face breaks into a crooked grin as he turns towards me. His smile glows brighter as he discovers someone to share this miracle with, and he gestures wildly with his hands as if to say “Look! Look at that! Have you ever seen anything so wonderful?!” His mouth moves, and he must have made some noise, because his 30-something mother turns in her seat. She sees the joy in her child’s eyes and her face, too, breaks into a smile. She looks across to me and acknowledges my presence in her child’s miracle. She waves and mouthes something I’m sure would have warmed my heart even more had I been able to hear, as she softly wraps her child’s waving hand softly inside hers. And the light changes from red to green.
In a city like Atlanta, where so many are wrapped up in their own agendas, and schedules, and stresses, 3 people stopped at a traffic light, and enjoyed a snow flurry, and almost touched.

>Almost Touched

>I live in hot, and now arid, Atlanta. A city that moves at the speed of light, and barely notices that it hasn’t rained in months or snowed in years.
A much-needed break in our drought came some time around November, and the rains fell. The lakes are still wanting, but reservoirs are filling, allowing the lakes to hold their precious raindrops a little longer.
Today, it snowed. The weathermen were right, for once, and it snowed! As I sit in my tiny car, forced upon me by the length of my commute and soaring gas prices, I idle, as I do every day at this time, waiting for other weary commuters to pass on an adjacent roadway.
The snowflakes dancing across my windshield are a miracle only a true southerner could enjoy, and I muse as I watch them fall and melt, fall and melt. I enjoy the whiteness of them, their fluffy, irregular shape, and their rarity.
Glancing to my left, I see a small bespectacled boy, buckled snuggly into the backseat of his mother’s Mercedes. As my gaze lands on him, he spies the swirling miracle outside his window and stretches one pudgy hand towards the window in the kind of pure joy only a child can experience. His swarthy face breaks into a crooked grin as he turns towards me. His smile glows brighter as he discovers someone to share this miracle with, and he gestures wildly with his hands as if to say “Look! Look at that! Have you ever seen anything so wonderful?!” His mouth moves, and he must have made some noise, because his 30-something mother turns in her seat. She sees the joy in her child’s eyes and her face, too, breaks into a smile. She looks across to me and acknowledges my presence in her child’s miracle. She waves and mouthes something I’m sure would have warmed my heart even more had I been able to hear, as she softly wraps her child’s waving hand softly inside hers. And the light changes from red to green.
In a city like Atlanta, where so many are wrapped up in their own agendas, and schedules, and stresses, 3 people stopped at a traffic light, and enjoyed a snow flurry, and almost touched.