My Marilyn
Today is my birthday. Not one of those round birthdays like 30 or 60, or consequential ones like 16 or 21, but a birthday, nonetheless.
I don’t dread birthdays, as our culture suggests we should. Getting older has its advantages, like distinguished grey hair and wrinkles around the brow and eyes, that some mistake for wisdom. And as you get older, you care less what others think, but you care more about those you love.
Which is really the point of turning 59, or any age for that matter, this issue of love. The foundation for a good life is loving parents (I was lucky to have 3.) And life is great when you have a wife and children whom you love and whom love you. That’s it; the real secret to happiness and a good life is to be surrounded by love.
This morning and this evening my Marilyn calls from San Diego. (She is so beautiful it hurts to think about it.) She is worried about missing my birthday, but we will celebrate tomorrow. Happiness doesn’t have a special day; each day is special when you are married to the great love of your life. I am happy thinking of her and Nate, waking up the animals at the San Diego Zoo.
Nicole calls to wish me a happy birthday, too, after a long day of unpacking boxes. She and Nate sing “Happy Birthday.” And so the love expands with grandchildren, as I have recently learned.
Miya is on the phone. She is happy building her life with Jose. Today they are talking about buying a home; tomorrow it will be having children. Whether they land in the Bay Area or stay in Seattle, there will be a bridge of love between us.
Poor Jamie, the sole representative of our clan at home, has the pressure packed responsibility of celebrating my big day. “What do you want to do for your birthday Dad?” she asks. “Let’s go for a bike ride,” I suggest. It is a perfect blue morning, as we whizz past the green pastures, horses and cows of Cull Canyon. Although she climbs the hill much faster than I do, all my muscles and joints are working. Health is important, too, especially at 59.
When I arrive home, Miko calls. She has moved out of her apartment today, with the help of friends. I don’t know what the future will bring for her and Corey, but she is grateful to be surrounded by friends on a difficult day.
So, let’s add friends, to health and love. Jim, my best friend, calls me to wish his old buddy happy birthday. We’ve traveled many a road together, both literally and figuratively. And I have Caryl and Len, Will and Diane, and many other dear friends. (That is correct Miko; I do have more than one friend.)
Today a new book of photos I made of Logan’s recent graduation arrives in the mail. The kids look jubilant and beautiful on their special day. So yes, having a job you care about makes for a good life.
Along with the book I received a manila envelope from my cousin, Georgie, too. It contains a family tree, filled with names. I learn that in the early 19th century an ancestor from Russia traveled to the holy land. On the first day of his pilgrimage he fell off a donkey and died. (I check the dates to see if he was 59.) So, we all live each day without knowing the future, or how many birthdays we might enjoy. Best to make the most of them.
I also learn we have distinguished rabbis, an Israeli nuclear scientist, musicians, and businessmen in the branches of our tree. I don’t know any of these accomplished people, but I wonder if they were loved, if they were happy, too. Was love passed from generations past to me in an unbroken chain?
In a recent e-mail, Miko said that I have entered the “Grandad” stage, like my father, who had everything he might need, no presents necessary. She is so right, but sends great gifts anyway.
I’m 59 and so lucky to have been raised by loving parents. I’m 59 and surrounded by my beautiful wife and daughters who love me. I have good health, great friends, and a job I enjoy. So far 59 is not so bad at all. I’m having a good birthday and am hoping my first day at 59 will be followed 364 more happy days, as well.
Gotta go now, Jamie has brought the makings for birthday ice cream sundaes. Ok, let’s add ice cream sundaes to all the other important things that make for a good life.