Monday, April 3, 2017
And so must we.
"How do you feel about birthdays?" my son asked me, Saturday, when he called to celebrate mine.
"They make me melancholy," I said. He agreed. But, he said, I should look at it like this: Birthdays are that one day a year designed to remind us of our friendships. The people in our lives. The stories they tell. The ways they make us better people. You have a birthday and (in case you've been obsessing over far less important things) you remember the loves in your life.
My son had called first thing on Saturday morning. We talked for more than an hour. Then, just as he'd promised, the day began to take on a new shape as I was remembered, and I remembered.
I wasn't melancholy anymore. I was simply grateful.