Friday, February 26, 2016

How Lucky Can One Girl Be?

It doesn’t matter who you are or what you look like, so long as somebody loves you.
~ Roald Dahl

I got some important lessons about birthdays this past birth week, some new and some I needed to be reminded of.

  • Cards matter - say I, who is so remiss about sending cards.  Not that I didn't appreciate the e-mails and kind thoughts on Facebook, but the cards are now pinned to my bulletin board and I smile whenever I pass them.  And am sure to smile at them in the weeks and months ahead.
  • But also, "I celebrate the day you were born" - a sentiment no greeting card can rival, however and wherever it's expressed.
  • Belated wishes are appreciated.  Too often, I have thought that somehow they might be considered an insult, an afterthought, and have felt embarrassed to send them.  But it is being remembered, before or after, that touches one's heart.   At least, this heart.
  • Then, there's gifts.  Over the years I have received some spectacular gifts - fine jewelry and trips to Italy and Hawaii, clothes and items for our home - gifts that as a child I would never have imagined possible.  But the gifts this year, much simpler, have moved me as much or possibly more (could this be a sign that I've gained some wisdom as well as years?) A friend coming up the driveway clutching a bouquet of pink tulips, unexpected gifts from new friends at a gathering of "the girls", a treat to lunch, affectionate messages left on the phone.
  • And the special gifts - a care package from my sister with not one but six small treasures that only someone who knows my tastes, and history - and idiosyncrasies - could select.  A new chair from my husband - who gets a chair for a birthday present? I did, because I asked for it and he always strives to give me what I ask for.  And the two foot tall teddy bear because he wanted this birthday to be memorable in its own way.  "How lucky can one girl be?"
But the lesson that lingers most in the days that have followed was instigated by a single sentence from my brother when I prattled on about the highlights of my birth week.  "You are well loved."  Birthdays - a celebration of the fact that we are loved, that we have enjoyed another year of being loved, and can, hopefully, look forward to the next one.  An acknowledgment of the lives we touch and that touch us. Viewed this way, how could you not look forward to your next birthday?

So, I'd like to enhance Roald Dahl's quote:  "It doesn't matter who you are or what you look like" or how old you are, "so long as somebody loves you."  My deepest gratitude to all who have reminded me that I am one lucky woman.

lovely image 

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