Avert Your Eyes

I remember that first birthday after I had left my marriage. I had decided I could celebrate on my own. I told myself that I could treat myself to a dinner and a night out and i would be just fine.

It was an epic fail. 

Fast forward five years and tears are leaking from my eyes. There was no grand party or fancy champagne or dresses. There was no extravagant gifts or gestures or candles to blow out. There was something much better. 

There was this soft, peaceful assurance that I am loved. 

Yes, today I learned through social media that my daughter, is apparently, in Israel. Oh. Just another seminal moment in her life that I am in the dark about. Left out of. And yes, only one of my kids wished me a happy birthday. And another year has passed that my grandkids won't celebrate with me. I remember vividly my 50th birthday, Micah on my lap, helping me blow out the candles on my cake. It would be so easy to allow all of this to derail my day. To let the grief come to the party. 

But, I'm learning to avert my eyes. 

Not ignore reality. But to remove my focus from the painful and take in the full vista of the joyful. 

It started a day early, a FaceTime visit with Lizzy and her grandkids - the ones she's graciously let me borrow - the one's who I get to see grow up before my eyes - who sang me Happy Birthday. Their smiles and giggles a pure joy. 

The early morning text from my youngest son that woke me earlier than I intended but started my day knowing I was remembered. It was followed by other friends who texted or emailed and wished me a great day and the best in the year ahead. The unexpected snow and ice convinced me to stay inside for most of the day. Listening to great music and a Rob Fitterer sermon on hope and all of it giving me a quiet and peaceful gift to myself. The multiple Facebook sentiments and expressions of love and good wishes. The surprise afternoon coffee with Heather. And a bag full of chocolate. Wine at a friends house. Dinner out with my boy - the beau - who, I am learning, is a master at picking the most perfect card. 

Juxtaposed against that birthday 5 years ago, I feel immensely loved. Unbelievably blessed. Beyond fortunate. Deeply grateful. 

It's a good life. A really good life. 

"Joy comes to us in ordinary moments..." 
- Brene Brown



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