Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Birthday card philosophy

I love birthday cards.  I love to buy them.  I love to get them.  There are times I stand in the card aisle and laugh out loud, thinking to myself, who among my friends would not find this offensive.  Of course, the answer is always the same.  None would find it offensive for they are, after all, my friends!  My favorite card was one I never had the opportunity to give.  It was a birthday card for my sister that I had purchased months before her birthday.  (I hate to miss the opportunity to send the right card just because the event is a long time away.  This time, however, I held on to it...unfortunately too long.)  The card simply said this:  "Happy Birthday."  On the inside it said, "Maybe this will be the year mom and dad love you as much as they love me!"  Unfortunately, WA died before I could send it, and it kind of lost its impact.  But, I digress (imagine that...a first!)  Some years, a theme emerges in the cards I receive. This year, I believe the count was 10.  10 of the cards I received addressed themselves to flatulence!  Really!  There were enough comments on my gaseous emissions to fuel a hybrid car for a year.  Problem is, they were spot on.  These, however, are not the reason for this commentary.  One card stood above all others this year.  The reason for this is two-fold.  First it was from very dear friends who keep us grounded and help us enjoy fine food and an occasional dip in the hot tub.  Second, the point was ever so spot on.  It was the picture of a man, riding a bicycle, with his hands in the air, balancing for all he was worth.  On the top of the card was a quotation by Pablo Picasso.  Simply, it said, "It takes a long time to become young."  Inside, it said, "You're off to a great start."  Light bulb.  Eureka!  Truth at last.  As I have aged, I have discovered that the magnet on the refrigerator is right.  Life IS too important to be taken seriously.  I remember the exuberance of youth.  It slowly returns.  I remember that wide-eyed wonder of youth.  It returns.  (Of course, sometimes it's wondering where I left something, but it's back!)  I remember the ability to become so completely absorbed in something that I lose track of time.  It returns. I remember the overwhelming realization that friends make all the difference in the world.  It returns.  And I remember how funny it was when someone mentioned or performed a release of methane in a loud and odoriferous manner.  It returns.  The joy of youth need not be wasted on the young.  May you find your whoopee's (cushion or celebration) as you continue to grow toward youth.  And know you are loved!

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