let us rejoice and be glad in it.
(Psalm 118:24)
My birthday fell on a Monday this year, so we celebrated a day early.
Instead of a traditional meal, my daughter prepared a smorgasbord of my favorite foods--plus hotdogs for the two littles.
My granddaughter in California paid us a visit on FaceTime so she could be included in a group picture with her siblings, and then an eager little great-grand helped me open my presents.
Sadly, I'm not allowed to post pictures of her or her sister on social media, but one shot was too cute to resist. Hopefully I've managed to doctor it up enough to make it acceptable.
Some more group pictures followed, as well as a game of Taboo that had us laughing to the point of tears. I don't think I've had so much fun in a very long time.
Our celebration ended with birthday cake (home made by one of the granddaughters), and the Happy Birthday song. Listening to three generations loudly fill in the blank with their version of what "Happy Birthday, dear (Sandy, mom, grandma, or great-granny)" should be, reminded me of how much I have to be grateful for.
Memories surfaced of a time long past when I was suddenly thrust into the roles of widow and single mom of two young children, and became struck by the irrational fear that I myself might not live long enough to see them grow up. Thankfully, that fear never came to pass. Not only did I see them grow up and have families of their own, but the Lord blessed me with seven grandchildren and four great-grands as well. Who would have thought?
On the way home, I felt elated, and filled with joyful anticipation of what tomorrow would bring--the beginning of a new year, a new decade, a new chapter in my life. I looked forward to what I would start writing on this clean, blank page the moment I woke up.
The day of my big 8-0 did not, however, turn out the way I expected it to. Instead of being able to sleep in a bit, I experienced a rude awakening less than three hours after going to bed. Somehow I managed to dislocate a finger while trying to scratch an itch in a hard to reach spot, and just like that, my plans came to an abrupt end. The day I had so looked forward to became one of mixed emotions, frustrations, and having to constantly remind myself that it was the day the Lord had made, and I would find ways to rejoice in it.
Reading all the birthday messages and texts friends sent me was a big help, as was the laughter shared with a good friend who came over to splint my finger at the end of the day, looking very much like a nurse with her little first aid kit.
It may not have been the day I'd hoped it would be, but it was a good one nevertheless.
