MY BIRTHDAY COMES AGAIN 

I think the last I spoke of my birthday was when I reached the landmark age of 80. My birthday present from the family was the memorable trip to the Steinhatchee Landing Resort. We saw pictures of that exciting time just a few weeks ago and I was filled warm feelings about how happy everyone seemed.

Now I’m 83. What can I say? I keep thinking about all the years of growing up and still dream of my Mother. A frequent one is that she is in a nursing home and I’ve not called or visited her and I feel so guilty forgetting about her. I don’t think I ever dream of my Dad.

I had a marvelous time with part of the family yesterday. We visited the Miniature Art show and saw five of our daughter’s pieces. Then we had dinner with Melissa, Chris, Jen and Steve as well as their two beautiful daughters. Chris brought brownies to the restaurant and lit two candles. I had always thought that anyone 80 years old was decrepit and living in a fog. I know I’m decrepit but I don’t live in a fog.

Today our only son, wife and grandson are arriving this evening with gifts of Greek Food. How lucky I am.

One thing that might surprise you is, I’m starting to write a book of fiction. Why not, I have a title and two characters kind of mapped out. At first I wanted it to be a mystery and filled with humor, now I’m not sure. I read the first page to my husband and we really laughed about some of the stuff. Now I think that what is funny could also be taken as serious. I had planned to ask the rest of the family to read it and suggest a mystery plot but now decided to go my own way. 

I’m telling you this because if I let you know about it, then I’ll have to continue and try to finish it. It might end up a short story, a novella or a book. Who knows, but my imagination continues on.

What would really be funny is if something happens to me, mentally or physically, everyone would get to write their own finished version.

Anyways, Happy Birthday to Me.