to me

happy birthday.

to me.

i sat and looked at

a tree.

The power went out this afternoon along with the water, so I took my baby bundle out for a walk in the sort-of-sunshine and he fell asleep. I didn't want to hike back up the five flights of stairs with him sleeping so nicely, so I just parked it on a bench and thought about the scope of my entire life. Isn't that what everyone does when they sit down on a bench in the late afternoon on their 33rd birthday? The scope of their entire life?

I have now known my husband for one third of my days, he informed me over dinner. The older I get, as the ratio of years I have known him to the years I have not grows, the more a blessed woman I become.

Birthdays are of little consequence anymore to me, at least in our family. It is a moment where a few people near and dear step out of time and place to share their love and invoke a memory or two. But there are so many other days throughout the year where I am given gifts I don't deserve and that flow from my husband's heart so freely, that if this day trickles by with just a seat on a bench and a few rays of sunlight on my baby boy's cheeks, I don't mind at all. 

We did try to go out. There was babysitting lined up and I prepared milk and meals and rushed out the door forgetting to dab on the lipstick. The power was out in the neighborhood though so we didn't go far. We walked to the blind masseuse but they were backed up, so we made our small talk and then sauntered out. We settled on... chinese food and walked in and out of several restaurants and finally landed at a pathetic little place where he pulled out a card from his pocket that said the perfect thing. Because only one thing matters and when you have it, it's enough. More than enough. 

And what of anything do we have that has not been given? It was a happy birthday, to me anyways.