That’s Cairo, the furry fruit of my imaginary canine loins. For lack of biological offspring, my four-footed friends stand-in as my kids. Well, it’s been another year. If the past week is any indication of of things to come, then I think I’m in for a great year. Since our swap with the Playtime girls last Thursday, to our memorable Samar vacation, and potentially a huge blessing coming our way in the near future, the past couple of days have been a whirlwind for me. Things are on an upturn, and I sure hope it’s my new phase.
I like the impasse I’ve reached with birthdays. When I was young, I LOVED birthdays. I lived the 364 other days of the year just eagerly anticipating my big day. I loved the presents, the attention, the parties, everything happy and joyful that was attached to celebrating birthdays. In our family, we always started the day with the whole family sneaking in the celebrant’s room at an ungodly hour (around 5am), singing the birthday song softly, until he or she wakes up, to see the entire family singing, bearing gifts, and generally making you feel like the most important and most loved person in the whole wide world. Somewhere along the way, my relationship with birthdays soured. When I hit my 30’s I started to dread birthdays. From thereon I started seeing birthdays as yearly reminders of how I’m a little closer to the grave, and how little I’ve done to make whatever’s left of my days worth the trouble. Birthday parties gave way to pity parties, and presents, no matter how nice, couldn’t distract my mind from staring into the impending abyss of doom. I always got depressed leading up to my birthday, and only heave a sigh of relief every June 18, when all vestige of that dreaded day has been swept into the trash bin.
But now, I neither look forward to it, nor do I dread it. I guess I’ve made my peace with my mortality. Plus, I’ve never been in a happier place than I am now. I’m spending my days with the one I love, I have a great job, from which I derive financial and emotional fulfillment, I have supportive family and friends, I have my wonderful hairy kids (my pets), and the more I count my blessings, the longer the list becomes. So if I die tomorrow (which I pray I don’t), I would die a grateful man. Life has been good to me, no matter how battered I sometimes feel. I don’t know if I deserve the life I’ve been given, but I’m sure I’m thankful for it.