Not since I was five has a birthday been so perfect or memorable.
Sometime last night I entered the Medicareful-Golden Years and so far I’m pretty enthusiastic about it.
Everyone treats you like you’re a queen, and for a moment you think you are. Milo (my horticulturist friend) even announced that he’s naming one of his new daylilies for me. It will be candy striped, of course.
My son William surprised me by driving in from Nashville and he and Braddock orchestrated a birthday that I will never forget even if I do have dementia.
We dined on boiled crawfish, corn and potatoes and talked about the best of our years in New Orlean and when the Saints won the Super Bowl.
Today, I awoke at 2:30 a.m. to the pinging sound on my Ipad. People from across the globe were sending birthday wishes. I wondered if they had been tracking my age all this time. Yes, Virginia. The world revolves around me after all.
I asked Braddock how all these people – some I’ve never even heard of – knew about my birthday. He looked at me with that sad, sideways “Bless her Heart” look and said. “Mom, Facebook sends a note to everyone in your address list.”
Imagine my delight as I returned home tonight and found something I’ve been wanting forever.
Ruthie got me a RAIN BARREL. It’s a great shade of blue that will lend itself well to a University of Mississippi logo.(Sorry JC, my heart may be in Oxford, but my soul is in Starkville.) It looked like heaven to me, and God nodded His approval.
As I ripped the card off the top, the rain began to fall softly as if saying, “Here Hon. Enjoy.” Thank you God and Ruthie. My life is complete.
But back to my 5th birthday. We had just moved to West Point in 1952 and didn’t know a soul. Mother went over to our neighbor, Mary Murphy, and asked her to find some friends for me. I was really, really shy. At least 25 little girls and boys came to my party. I had no idea that they were coming for the cake and ice cream and pin the tail on the donkey.
Sometimes it’s just best to think you’re special and never know the truth.