Then my husband and I got on our bikes and partook of a long and lovely ride through the ravine below us, and it was sweet and it was warm, and it was sun and shade, and fuck my legs hurt! Come on legs!!!! Why are you hurting? You work out with me every day!!!! Is a bike so different? And, if it is … why? Or ... tell me beforehand. Warn me! The shock of it freaked me out. Okay ... on with the story.
My husband laid out the world of possibilities for me on my special day and I chose peace. My original plan for my birthday was a city tour brimming with new experiences. But on the day, on the actual day, I knew what I needed for my 58th birthday and gift ... thy name was peace. And I woke up and grabbed me a piece of that peace. I did some sitting and some reading and some puppy belly rubbing. I had a day of nothing special and everything special. It was a huge revelation for me that I actually chose ... whatever! Come what may. In the moment. Peace baby peace.
Birthday. Birthday. Gift to me.
So. With a day spent outside and in our pool, with my kisser in a book and my toes in the sun, I reveled. And afterwards went willingly into the shower to fancy myself up for dinner. And we visited my parents on our way to dinner and I said to my Mom (given that she was shocked to see us) that I just wanted to see them on my birthday. Her response was, “Well, I was the first one to see you on your birthday!” True. I had celebrated with Mom and Dad a few days before at a BBQ at our home, but I just wanted to give them a smooch, you know?
And we arrived at our wonderful dinner, after a parking episode which deserves it’s own blog but for the moment will go unrecorded. Suffice it to say, we had many laughs, managed our way uphill to the restaurant, ate well, chatted much, and finished the evening with a dessert devoted to the lady of the hour—Nasim—which was the name on my birthday dessert. And so Nasim, if you are out there, and were perhaps treated to a Happy Birthday Deb cake, I can only hope you appreciated the mistake as I did—with some howling tearful laughter and the thought that maybe we were somehow meant to connect.
Happy Birthday, Nasim! Deb loved your cake!
Barbara: Deb, as you know, this birthday perfection—and especially the final (hilarious) touch—made me so happy for you. But the one (trivial) question I never asked you: is it possible that Nasim is a guy??? This makes the idea of a stranger getting YOUR cake even funnier!