Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Birthday Blues and Birthday Bliss

It’s my birthday and I’ll cry if I want to. I know those are not the exact words of the song, but it’s my birthday and I’ll write what I want to.
These days, birthdays just remind me of my real age. Not how old I wish I were or feel or act or look or pretend to be. You know, that stark, cold, harsh number.
Pablo Picasso once said, “It takes a long time to become young.” And someone else said, “Youth is wasted on the young.” Both things meaning this: The older you get, the more youthful you feel even if your body says, “no, no, no.”
At least that’s my take on things. I’ve never felt so grateful for every day I’m here and able to do what brings me joy. Writing. Walking. Being with family and friends. Cooking healthy food. Music, books, art, nature. Shopping. (Whoops! Did I say that out loud?)
So today I’m not going to do any work. I’m going to receive birthday wishes, have a birthday lunch with my buds, appreciate my wonderful daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren, do a little shopping, have a birthday dinner with another friend, and feel the gratitude in my heart.
Later, I’ll cry if I want to.