Today is my seventieth birthday. I don't think I ever thought about seventy--it always seemed so far away. However, as milestones go, it's fairly significant. JC suggested a party, but I said 'no'. Too much work, too much expense, right when Christmas is gearing up, right when there is so much to do, when no-one has time. I don't often admit this, but he was right and I was oh, so wrong. We did the party--and a lovely one it was.
I don't often think about friends. It is so easy to take them for granted. When JC told me to make a list, I demurred, saying I didn't have many friends anymore, and nothing is worse than a fancy party featuring a small group of acquaintances, desperately making small talk, while glancing surreptitiously at their watches. I made the list, reluctantly. None of them had anything in common, a fact that struck terror in my heart. Did I say nothing was worse than a small group? Think about a LARGE group with nothing to talk about.
But, there was a list, and by the time we added family, and an assortment of people I cared about, we were up to about forty. We put in the reservation, figuring we'd probably get 35 or so. Then we thought of a few more. We were up to 50. Then 52. The number wavered a bit up and down, but most everyone accepted. How did this happen? Our event planner at the Metropolitan Club even said this doesn't happen. She planned for 50; we ended up with 56. Of which 55 actually showed up.
So, where does that leave me? Grateful. There, amidst a crowd of friends (none of whom had any difficulty conversing) I realized the most important fact of my life: it is friends and family who make you who you are. Every person in that room--and many who were too far away, or were unable to travel, or had to work--the list goes on...was important. I think of all the people who have touched my life and am amazed at how many there are, at how many people have made me who I am by caring and supporting and keeping me going through thick and thin.
Which makes my birthday an occasion for gratitude. Not for the inevitable aging process; I am not offering up prayers of gratitude for arthritis and memory loss and general decrepitude. Instead, I am grateful for the laughter and the tears and the support and the unwavering loyalty through the years, for the people who listened, and the people who talked to me, and all those events that made it all worthwhile. It has been--as a friend of mine once said--a good run. Even if I'm not running anymore, I can always enjoy a good walk.
