Yesterday, I turned thirty-six years old. The days go by faster now, and it seems I was just here a few months ago – when I turned thirty-five. I have many things on my list to be thankful for, to bow my head and utter quiet words of thanks. My list is long.
This year instead of a big celebration, I ached for a quiet day with my family. It seemed appropriate that I be still this year, that I acknowledge the passage of time, but without a whole lot of frazzle-dazzle. We ate breakfast, I read from a couple of books, we went to lunch, and then we walked the small hill on our land, counted cows, and drove back home. An ordinary day, and yet there were flecks of extraordinary mixed throughout that made my throat close up and my eyes misty.
My kids made me a card, Rodrigo made me breakfast, we laughed as a family, we walked together in the late afternoon, we worked on a puzzle, drank good wine, and had a lovely bit of cake. We talked to family on the phone, a few friends called, my dear friend sent me a thoughtful email, and my in-laws came over to wish me a happy day. It was restful and full of hope. As the years pass, I realize how much one perfect ordinary day is worth. Gold. It’s worth gold.
There we are, happy and together! What a wonderful gift.
Thanks for joining me on this journey. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.
I’d love to hear about your most quiet birthday.
Much Love,
Tina
