On the Eve of my husband’s 80th Birthday, I find myself more or less in awe. It seems to be a momentous occasion for him and for me. And as I ponder this moment in time and of celebration, I come to understand that turning 80 is a luxury not granted to all. And as this thought sinks into my brain and into my heart I feel profoundly grateful for this birthday, for this time, and for this man who is, without doubt, the great love of my life.
I am acutely aware of the grief I carry for so many in my life who have not lived anywhere near to 80 years old, my baby brother, our son, and others whose lives were cut so tragically short. I wonder will I be one of the ones granted the luxury of an 80th birthday?
I am magnificently aware of how incredibly precious the time is that we have with this amazing man. This man whose life began, by crossing the Atlantic Ocean in a warship in his Mother’s belly. This remarkable athlete, a holder of so many medals in many sports, including swimming, paddling, and marathoning. This father, Dad, and Papa, a builder of science projects and a fierce protector of his young. This architect, a designer with unlimited possibilities. This man who is healing from cancer. This man who is my most beloved husband, friend, and true love.
I have the feeling that I want to hold on to this time and moment with all my might, so that it does not pass too quickly, knowing all the while that this is not possible.
What is possible is to be grateful for each and every second and to love him with every fiber of my being.
Happy Birthday My Love.