Birthday Wishes

It’s mid January and still my city here in west Michigan has not had our customary snow storm.  The other night enough snow fell to encourage one local entrepreneur to knock on my door and offer to shovel my walk and drive.  I did it myself though- one of those winter-time tasks that sometimes brings dread but more often invites playfulness.  I enjoy clearing my drive with the shovel.  I like the weight of the snow-laden shovel in my hands, feeling the muscles in my arms working in new ways.  I like the sound of the shovel scraping against the walk.  I like knowing I am clearing the way for myself, my visitors and for those who walk the neighborhood with their dogs.  I like shoveling just after dusk, the streetlight beams lighting the way.  Tall maples and oaks that line the streets, standing as sentries while I shovel, while I care for my house.  I look into my house from the outside and watch the light from within shine back out at me inviting me into its warmth.

Last Saturday I called together a small group who have become my family of friends since moving to Grand Rapids.  We celebrated my 40^th birthday.  I am so grateful for these friends, for this life, for this home.   I am grateful for snow, for shovels, for the lights and sounds of friendship and for the measure of a life I treasure.

This was not always so, and if I am truthful, it sometimes still, is not always so.  I wish that I could say everyday is filled with mirth but this is not so.  Sometimes life surprises me and I am left feeling “without.”  Days come and go and I don’t remember what filled the time or what made it worthwhile.  These times happen often in the Winter, of course.  When I can’t get out for a ride and when the cold keeps me bundled up and hunkered down.

So it is good that my birthday falls in January, good that I can share my home with the warmth of friends and friendship, with love and laughter, surprises and smiles.  A week later, my home is still filled with the energy of the evening.  Memories flit by, glimpses of conversations that were started and never finished.  Glimpses of the group, some new to each other, grabbing at threads and weaving them back into each other over the evening – threads that bind together, connect one conversation to another, one life to another.

Each gathering here has its own feel, its own energy yet still it connects to the other gatherings with the same faces.  Anita arrived early, as has been her custom, to help with last minute details, to provide her grounding presence for the group, to connect with me before the busyness begins.  She answered the door and welcomed the first guest while I took a deep breath and relaxed into the evening.  Amy brought Michael and I am glad they share together in the friendship I have quite singly with each of them.  Patrick brought his wife Haijin, Ken his laughing eyes and bar jokes.  Joe came with his Tiffany and Lisa with her bellydancing.  Kym and Rob brought poems to share.  Patrick and Mary came, too with gifts of food and drink. We dined on strawberries and grapes and cherries, fresh cheeses and chocolate cake from Marie Catrib’s.  White tulips and miniature plum calla lilies sat smiling in a vase in the center of the table.  The room was softly lit by candles and jazz played in the background.  It was a beautiful evening.  Just the right kind of evening, with just the right people to help me usher in my 40^th year. 

And although not all days, especially Winter days, provide me with something to remember, this day surely does.  Thanks to all the friends who make the journey worthwhile and thanks for all the birthday wishes.