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!
