Timing is everything. I was so glad that my sister’s card arrived at the same time the other evening as my obligatory birthday card from my primary care doctor at Kaiser Permamente.
Nor did opening a browser this morning to see Google spelled out in birthday candles make my heart sing. Rolling my cursor over it wished me Happy Birthday by name, which I found chilling.
However, my Sis wrote me. Besides the curious, fluffy bird amidst exotic leaves on the card, captioned “Wonder is the beginning of wisdom. – Socrates” — her words made me dance for joy. She began:
I wonder, “What makes this a birthday card?” The beginning: [insert wisdom here.] Is a birth really a day? The future is hope, desire, intent. The past is meaning, identity. Birth is the wave of ceaseless becoming, aka eternity.
But to quote the Dalai Lama, “Pigeons sit.” Human becoming requires identity and intent, Bergson’s duration. As sublime as sit may be, it must bring the goods. Product, Baby! What does Be do? Oh, pigeon poop, did we ask to be born? — I don’t recall. [the end of wisdom]
But whether beamed whole as Universe (B. Fuller) or Darwin’s genetic wheel of fortune spun for the umptieth time…
Yes, life is good with love and wisdom, wit and a hilarious sister who writes to me.
This morning the organic Veggie Box was delivered to my porch fresh from the farm. I ordered chocolate babka (handmade bread that reminds me of pain au chocolate in Lyon) so I started on a slice for breakfast — and did not do yoga.
When I wandered out into the dining room I saw a green rabbit felt bucket with a bottle of Prosecco and a card from my dear Mom. We’ll have a few bubbles this evening. As I told my daughter on the phone last night, “I’ll be working all day,” when she asked she might drive down midday during her work schedule. Yikes, 99 miles in bay area traffic. We postponed a get together, but goodies are in the mail. And my other daughter and granddaughter will be going out with mom and me on Sunday. Instead of doing the St. Patrick thing, we’ll be enjoying sumptuous vegan food at a local restaurant.
So, yes, these little gifts and words of love do help. They offset the cold reality of aging and push back fears of facing medical mysteries. They remind me I am loved.
Which is something I forget easily.