Today I’m 66 years old. The number seems wrong. It can’t possibly be true that the group of people with grayer hair and deeper lines are the same ones who walked with me out of childhood. Wasn’t it just last week that we were in Topanga Canyon? Last week that we were listening to The Eagles new album and drinking margaritas?
My friends are precious to me, some known for 40 and 50 years. They’re the source of birthday cards and calls, emails and birthday lunches. Gestures of love scatter like almond blossoms across a well-worn path, and I feel blessed that it’s the small, heart-felt things that have come to mark the years.
The past and the future colloid: I’m rooted in the longhaired, idealistic girl with bare feet and poetry on her lips; now the serious writer, with wool socks and messy pages, trying to tell “the” story, because honestly, I’ve only ever written one story. My life has grown out of that place where idealism and reality crash into each other, and the current takes you. Marriage, career, divorce, marriage again happened in a kind of planned chaos, but let me live to tell the tale.
I’m 66 years old and keenly aware of how life recedes as the numbers increase, aware of wavering significance and limited hours. So many things fall away, and what remains is the fullness of the experience; the gratitude alive in the heart, the old friends from a certain time and place who remind me of where I’ve been.
Today my true companion, my one great love, will sing to me. We’ll wander the aisles of the gardening center and gather flowering plants for the empty containers on our deck. We’ll hold hands. We are that older couple that makes young people sigh, envying the kind of love that survives the journey.
This morning, as I drink my tea and muse about the years, I reach an easy conclusion: I love my life. I love my friends. I’m grateful for each turning of the wheel, for each memory, for each deep line etched into the map on my face, telling a story of so much joy, so much pain, so much living . . . I’m blessed to able to say, “this is a very happy birthday, indeed.”
Happy Birthday Stephanie – a toast to you and to your life that is well lived.
Thank you. A toast back at you for the warmth and joy of your spring!
Happy Birthday my sweet, sassy girl. I’ll love you forever…
3.14
Sassy? Did someone say sassy? I love you forever, my dearest husband. You are the great joy of this wonderful life.
Happy Birthday!!
Thanks! Big hugs and Happy spring.
Happy Birthday Stephanie from a 70 year old who definitely understands the flow of time. Each day seems like a minute. Mt wife and I stare at each at 10:00 p.m. and say didn’t we just get up. Enjoy your day.
Made me laugh, Len. It goes so fast now, doesn’t it? Thank you for the birthday wish.
Happy Birthday! Have a wonderful day and a wonderful new year of joy.
Thank you for the kind wishes for today and the coming year.
Happy Birthday to you! How wonderful that you embrace it with joy and gratitude. Makes the days all the more precious.
Life is precious. I always smile when I see you come up on my feed, dear and kindred spirt. Happy spring and write on . . .
Thank you so much and same to you. 😊
Happy birthday.
Onward!
Neil S.
Onward, indeed. Thank you and happy spring.
Happy Birthday, Stephanie!
Thank you Cristian. I hope that your writing is going well. Big hugs.
Happy Birthday! A lovely reflection too.
Thanks for the good wishes and the kind comment. Happiest of springs to you.
Beautifully written. Happy birthday and welcome to the 66 club.
Thanks for the good wishes, Sue!
Happy Birthday & many more!!🎊💐🍵🌞
Big hugs, my writing friend. Thanks for stopping by . . .