Category: inspiration

friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, mindfulness, motivation

It’s A Muse-thing

mimijk

Sunday at Camp Karma is lazy – and I have every intention of staying true to form this morning.  I look forward to the Sunday Times with my second cup of coffee,  weekend crossword puzzles in The Washington Post and The New York Times.  Comfort food and cozy naps.  Glimpses of the Animal Planet (arguably one of my favorite channels) when the remote control is left unattended.   Well, let’s rewind the tape – at least for a little while. I will return to my sloth-like Sunday shortly (by the way, if you have never seen a baby sloth…truly adorable, and they have the most endearing smiles..damn, I did it again…another ‘look a chicken’ moment).

One of the most common puzzle clues references a muse – and the answer is almost always  ‘Erato’.  A muse – a source of inspiration, most typically the font of ideas that fuels creative efforts.  Erato was one of nine sisters – the offspring of Mnemosyne and Zeus.  My hunch is that they were probably known around the neighborhood as the girls that every mother wanted to keep her kids away from – because after a certain point, kids don’t need a lot of inspiration to get into creative mischief.  And besides, nine daughters had to be enough entertainment for one family – especially if they spent their time inspiring each other and fighting for time in the bathroom.  Not a lot of testosterone coursing through that house (although Zeus certainly held his own in that area, no pun intended).

(Here’s a picture of the nine sisters – can you imagine, they wouldn’t even pose for a family snapshot?  Someone had to ‘carve’ them from memory because they weren’t speaking to each other)

Ah, the sibling rivalry!  It has to be pretty hard on the ego to see your sister routinely associated with creativity, passion and inspiration.  Clio got a nod every now and then, but can you name the other seven without checking Wikipedia?  How does that play into your self-esteem?  To have a house in a gated community, have famous parents and all the accoutrements of celebrity and still know that  the only reason anyone wants to sit next to you in homeroom is because you’re related to the most popular girl in the zip code?  I don’t know – sounds pretty uninspiring in my book.  Growing up is tough enough – I feel badly for these girls.

I realize too that for me,  inspiration is found in the words of many who happen to read this post.  The stories of our days, the hours of endless question and the occasional ‘aha’ moments that propel us forward.  The open heart and the unthinking words – all inspiration.  Phenomenal sunrises and relentless clouds;  disequilibrium and exquisite balance; doors that slam shut with one finger still stuck in the jamb and the smell of fresh air as an unseen window yawns opens.  The music of each day and the construction of dreams at night.  Perhaps the murmurings of the heart.  Perhaps Erato felt like her hands were full every once in awhile (and don’t think she didn’t use that argument as a reason to get a better make of car upon graduating  Mt. Olympus High School), but I for one have had better luck just noticing life.

“You don’t have a soul.

You are a soul.

You have a body.” —- C.S. Lewis

discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

Saying ‘Yes’ – Though I Really Don’t Know

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Midlife – Julie Cadwallader-Staub

This is as far as the light

of my understanding

has carried me:

an October morning

a canoe built by hand

a quiet current

above me the trees are

green and golden

against a cloudy sky

below me the river responds

with perfect reflection

a hundred feet deep

a hundred feet high.

To take a cup of this river

to drink its purple and gray

its golden and green

to see

a bend in the river up ahead

and still

say

yes.

If there is anything that the last few days has taught us, it’s that we can be awed, humbled, frightened, moved and bested.  We can be rendered powerless and exhibit mind-boggling levels of strength and determination.

I can’t help but notice how simply exhausted the trees look.  Everything but their trunks looks bowed and submissive.  I feel like they need the winter.  They need the rest.  As impressively as they stand, as they cradle the birds (who were having an absolute flight fest yesterday as they celebrated the end of the storm and were just heading in droves over to each other’s houses to catch up on the neighborhood news), as they release their leaves, I can feel them sigh.  It’s enough.  Just a little break, a time to be fallow.  It sounds silly – I look at them and my eyes fill.

I had the misfortune of hearing an Ann Coulter sound byte where she was opining about the presidential campaign in the States, and defended her use of the word  ‘retard’ as a descriptive.  My shoulders sagged, my head bent and my breath caught.  Really?  Please don’t lecture me on the finer points of free speech.  I’m tired.  I’ve wearied of the season – the glaring examples of ugliness, the mean-spirited back-and-forth that in my view diminishes any substance to drivel.   Name calling – on Facebook, Twitter – are we done yet?  I am interested and intrigued by opinions other than my own, but honestly I don’t do offensive posturing well.  You lost me with your first epithet, your first invective.  I’m done.  I need the arrival of the fallow season.

I try (emphasis on ‘try’)  to ask myself a few questions before I open my mouth (unless I’m singing of course) – “Is it honest?”  “Is it true?”  “Is it kind?”  Would that these would be the rules that govern our more incendiary social conversations.   Of course I realize that there are many who prefer the in-your-face discussion, voices raised, opinions morphing into facts – bet they don’t like me very much.  I will not engage.

And so the day moves inexorably into its morning, and the sun is still hesitating to make an appearance.  As the clouds cast shadows on the remaining golds and reds and yellows above me, I honor the insistent posture of the trees.  I stand with the people who have lost so much and still rise with some belief and inner conviction that there will be a new season.  And though I am not sure why, I too say ‘yes’.

discretion, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, music

Songs For A Rainy Day

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I’ve been creating a playlist in my head.  I admit, I do weird things in my head.  It’s entertaining though – thinking of  music that is appropriate for today.  So far, I’ve got

Singin’ In The Rain

Stormy

Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head

Hard Rain Gonna Fall

Windy

It’s Rainin’ Men (it’s not really – at least not here)

I Can’t Stand The Rain

Rainy Days And Mondays

Another Grey Morning

And a friend of mine sent this one, which I had never heard before

[youtube.com/watch?v=VuJ9TNg3API]

Okay, now it’s your turn…

anxiety, discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

Coming Home

mimijk

We pulled into the driveway last night, and I exhaled.  Home.  We could hear the Sirs barking – they knew we were here.  Everything was just as we had left it on Wednesday, nothing had changed.  That craving for the familiar finally satisfied.  My anchor, my protection, my comfort.  Home.  I need to be here right now.

I submit that in the medical lexicon, there is no more magnificent adjective than ‘benign’.  The pathologist called me while we were in Hilton Head and said “benign”.  I remember saying “Thank God and thank you so, so much for calling me.”  She liked my hair – I gave her the name of the woman who turns my gray hair into some credible fictional derivative.  I love horses – she told me about an organization where I can volunteer by helping children with disabilities experience the confidence-boosting experience of riding.  Then she added that word I abhor – “but”.   “But, I have never seen anything like this before…sending the sample to a colleague at Georgetown…probably should be removed.”  Do I tell her that I feel a third little coffee klatch of ‘rogue’ cells getting together for a little chat?  Does it matter?  “Benign”, I tell myself and take long deep breaths.  I really should learn how to meditate.  Andy tried to teach me once, suggesting I select a word that I could repeat in my head to help eliminate extraneous thoughts from interrupting my concentration.  I came up with ‘Pepsi Cola’ because I liked the rhythm of the two words together and started to laugh so hard that I ended up rolling on the bed, clutching my stomach and snorting.  Pepsi Cola – really?

At the end of the day, all will be well – I know this – I have no doubts.  It is just that time between now and getting-to-fine that makes me want to cocoon, and feel the safety of my familiar.  Knowing how perfect the coffee will be each morning, which way to turn the kitchen faucet so it doesn’t drip, sharing my kitchen chair with Teddy and rubbing Archie’s tummy with my foot.  Sunday crossword puzzles and fuzzy socks.  Football.  A storm coming in (actually a storm coming in wherever you may live on the East Coast of the U.S.) and power outages expected.  I am ever hopeful that our lights will stay on this time, even though our history this year suggests otherwise.

When I walked the Sirs early this morning, the silence was too loud not to notice.  A few crickets insisted on continuing their conversation; other than that –  not even a whisper on the wind.  A leaf fell on the asphalt.  I heard everything acutely, having so few sounds to identify.  An hour and a half later and the wind is beginning to wake, each bend of the trees an acknowledgement perhaps of what is about to come.  ‘Get ready’, the air muses,  ‘for change is always on the wing’.  And despite the uncertainty, I challenge the breeze – for it is benign.

friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

So Much To Appreciate

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Last week, Ivon Prefontaine (ivonprefontaine.wordpress.com) graciously included me among of list of bloggers he appreciates.  His blog – “Teacher As Transformer” –  delights, teases the imagination, encourages wonder and provides glimpses of beauty that can leave one sighing.  I look forward to his posts, never knowing what I will read yet confident that I will feel inspired in some way.  So first and foremost – thank you Ivon, for expanding my view, sharing your perspective and generously including me in this wonderful circle of impressive talent.

Interestingly, what Ivon appreciates about this blog helps me to meet the requirement of completing the sentence “A blog is…”.  Although I’m hopeful that he enjoys the content most of the time,  my posts weren’t the driver for his inclusion of me ‘in the circle’.  Ivon appreciates the dialogues that occur after a post is published, that I respond to each comment.  Of course I write back – that’s the greatest  joy of blogging to me.

In my head, a blog is a conversation.  The post in and of itself represents the context for further discussion – and it is the feedback that propels the movement from one topic to another.  I have no illusions about my talent as a writer – I wouldn’t buy a book of mine even if I had the focus to write one.  I write as I speak, tangents included.  What I am though,  is really curious about how we think about the world, how we react to the big and little experiences that occur throughout our days.  I will share an observation – from the silly to the sublime – to ‘hear’ what you think.  It’s not a selfless expression, for I learn about myself while on the karma truck too.  Those lessons?  That should wait for another day.

The pleasure of being in a circle is found in the expectation that one can expand it further.  As such, I am asked to invite two more bloggers along. This is tricky, for there are many I follow and admire and appreciate deeply.  So I offer two, with the caveat that I could write an entire post just listing the incredible people who have found me and who I have found.

I appreciate Cathy Ulrich who writes largeself.com for the wide breadth of topics and genres she so beautifully introduces on her blog.  I love her sensitivity to that which is around her, even if it is the subtle bend of a petal on a flower.

And I appreciate Keith who writes keiththegreen@wordpress.com.  Keith also addresses diverse topics and observations on his blog.  I appreciate his humor, his patience and consistent return to lessons about walking through life with the gentlest of steps.  And he doesn’t mind answering some of my really ignorant questions!

Again, there are so many – and I would venture to guess that you know who you are because I have written about you often.  You are all in my circle, because without you there is no conversation, there is no back-and-forth that define the best of relationships.  For me that’s the best delivery from the karma truck.

 

 

discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, music, parenting

A Magical Moment

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I hesitated to post this video – primarily because so many people may have viewed it already.  Yet the more who view it the better – for the way it makes you feel your heart beating,  for the glimpse of beauty for which language has yet to adequately evolve, for the chance to feel that you are witnessing a magical moment.  Happy Friday all..

[youtube.com/watch?v=QX-xToQI34I]
discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, mindfulness, motivation

‘What Becomes A Legend Most’

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It’s isn’t Janet Jackson in a full length mink coat, of that I’m sure.  I think the tag line is terrific – just misplaced.

We can all think of legendary people and moments for which books are written, songs are penned, clichés are born.  And then there are the everyday legends who may have no famous (or infamous) public persona, but impact our days, change our thinking, inform our choices and enrich our hearts.

There are people in my past who are legends in my memory.  My family is legendary – in more ways than one can define the adjective.  And then there are those who come into your days and you’d be an idiot not to recognize the karmic element of your meeting.  So it was when I met Chris.  He wouldn’t agree with me, he would argue that none of it is a big deal and perhaps when our time together is over, I will quickly recede from his memory.  That’s cool – he is forever etched in mine.  Meet Chris –

I began training with Chris a little over a year ago.  Given some of my physical limitations, I had major trepidation about going to the gym.  Chronic pain is well, a pain – long scars that extend from the neck down to places that haven’t seen the light of day in years, makes ‘flexibility’ a dirty word.  Tendons, fascia, ligaments that are just generally ornery – and that’s on a good day.  My body and soul are truly yin and yang.  I was afraid that at the least, I wouldn’t accomplish anything, and at worst I would end up doing some further damage to myself,  because at core I am still competitive and will ‘play hurt’.

Chris lost his leg a couple of years ago.  He was riding his motorcycle and was struck by a drunk driver.  I’m not going into the specifics of his accident – it was gory and awful and with or without hindsight, life-altering.  Chris was a trainer before the accident; he’s a trainer now.  He is an avid competitor – it seems that he’s in a marathon or triathlon every other week.  He hears a lot of praise when he’s pushing the envelope,  and deserves all of it.  But to me, he deserves it because he held on to his heart throughout this ordeal, he didn’t compromise on his life and he didn’t lose the ability to laugh.  He adores his wife, relishes his friendships and family and knows how to have a good time.  He still has to deal with the frustration that comes with parts that fail, waiting for insurance companies to do what they’re supposed to do, having to consider what most of us don’t even think about at all.  He still has to deal with the ghosts that dance in his head (even though he doesn’t think anyone knows about them) and get up every morning and dare the dawn to get in his way. And let me tell you, the morning steps aside.  As it should.

Chris’ will, his expectations of himself, his laugh…it’s the stuff of good character.  The way his eyes betray him when he thinks someone is in pain, his sense of commitment, his frustrations…it’s the stuff that makes him human.  The combination of heart and head, determination and focus, reality and hope…that’s the stuff of everyday legends.

inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, music

The Perfect October Song

mimijk

Arguably not the most original of posts this morning, though the morning is clearly exceptional.  It’s our first emphatically chilly morning, the smell of oak trees pervade the air,  Archie is trying in vain to catch every falling leaf only to be confused by their trajectory and the sheer volume of movement around him (the purpose of being outdoors for his morning ‘business’ is completely forgotten).  Teddy is stopping to smell the mums and I am inspired by the sounds and sights of the morning.  It’s a wonderful day to take a slow walk into life..

anxiety, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

Getting To Enough

mimijk

Thank you Molly Mahar – whoever and wherever you are.   This resonates with me.  Especially the mistakes part.  I have made and continue to make a lot of mistakes.  Even if I were less self-deprecating, I wouldn’t register on the perfection scale,  and that’s a-ok with me.  Of course there are things I’d like to do better, and I’ll keep trying – but perfection?  No thanks.  Not only is it illusory, it’s a state of hubris which in and of itself is imperfect and insufferable, so there you go.  I choose to break the cycle before it starts.

What I can stop doing is obsessing about all the things that I don’t get right.  The conversations that miss a beat, the nuance I fail to notice.  Not checking in with my friends and family enough (whether or not they check in with me with the same frequency), taking tomorrow as a given when I should consider it a gift.  Over-thinking.  Oh that’s a big one.  I looked at the quarter moon this morning and thought it looked like the perfect tip of a french manicure (which by the way, isn’t really French at all..).  And then I considered this an insult to the moon.  All of the magnificent analogies about ‘la luna’ and I end up with a french manicure?  How ridiculous.  But I digress (something else I do way too often – please tell me that is part of my charm)…Holding on to something way past its expiration date.   Adding so many ‘shoulds’ to the ingredients of my daily stew that I end up stewing so long that the meat of the day is too tough and chewy to be delicious.  I could go on, believe me  – and this would end up being a tome.  Boring and self-focused, and a tome.

I’m working on the adventurous part.  Lately I have pulled back and in, needing the security of my home and the time to delight in little events in the day that often go unnoticed in the quest for intrepid activity.  There was some Hatfield & McCoy turf war in the trees yesterday afternoon (well at least that’s what I think was happening).  Scores of wrens were chirping at each other, flying back and forth frantically between two trees, circling with the derision that only one wren can have for another.  Despite the absence of wind, the trees were shaking with vigor generated by this family feud.  One woodpecker was apparently trying to broker a deal – giving up eventually because his shrieks did nothing to appease anyone.  An adventure?  Perhaps not, but in my head the story unfolded as one.

And yes, earlier this week a stranger in the Starbucks line started to talk to me and I responded with “You can see me?!” (Long story, but a few of us in the blogosphere agreed to do this – and I was the only one who did – do I know how to have an adventure or what?).  The person replied, “Of course..” and kept talking.  So much for seeking adventure.  I guess adventure comes to she who just keeps her eyes open throughout the day.

So I’m thinking that it’s time to arrive at the place where I accept myself as being enough.  Doesn’t mean I’m not going to continue to try to be a better person, wife, mom, sister, friend – but perhaps with a little less self-flagellation in the process.  I’ll remember that the gorgeousness of humanity is in the sparkle of the soul.  And of one thing I am certain – we all look great in sparkles.

 

 

discretion, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, motivation, training

The Family You Have, The Family You Choose

mimijk

“Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family:  whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one.” — Jane Howard

There are all sorts of families – the ones that we are magically born into or become a part of; the families that we build one person, pet, ritual at a time; the families of friends that may morph and change with the understanding that these connections are in many ways as binding as any others.  Within the context of this forum in which we meet and discover virtual understandings and ‘aha’ moments, we are defining a new family.  I think of many people in this community who I feel I know and love as members of my family too.  People who are always there to support me when I write through my neurotic moments, laugh along with my silliness, commiserate when life becomes complicated or evocative of times that are painful to recount.  Friends who I fret about and delight in, inspire me with their incredible talents, and celebrate with head-shaking wonder at the magic that they create regularly.

So it is within this uniquely bound family that I find myself accepting the Family Of Bloggers Award.  I love the implication of this honor, for it suggests that we are in many ways a family of choice.  We are together because we choose to be, minus some of the drama and trauma that come from nuclear units that are perhaps more complicated, defined by far different memories of shared history.

David Kanigan (DavidKanigan.com)  who writes the blog titled Lead.Learn.Live and Laurie Barkman who authors PassionatePerformance.wordpress.com both nominated me for this award this week.  David has a following that is remarkable in both its size, intelligence and loyalty.  When I started following his blog, I hoped to come close to the quality, provocative writing and thoughtful commentary that his writing reflects all the time.  I still don’t know how he does it, finding references, writers, images, videos that invite and engross the reader.  He is incredibly self-effacing, and he is shaking his head as he reads this not able to admit that all of this is true.  But I would bet an awful lot of money (if I had it, which I don’t, so I feel good about placing the bet) that there are many, many, many who agree with my summary.  I have followed him from the first day I came to WordPress and I will follow him should the time come when I no longer post..

My line of work and Laurie’s closely parallel each other.  The primary and striking difference is that she manages to imbue the topic of performance management and leadership with practical wisdom and a passion that is palpable.  As some of you may know from earlier posts, I have a love-hate relationship with this topic – perhaps because I’ve been training and speaking about these topics for so long.  But I return to Laurie time after time because her advice is wise and practical, her commitment sincere and passionate and the results always on point and well-considered.  As much as I believe that there is nothing new under the sun because of a general reluctance to deal with the discomfort of change, Laurie gently encourages me to reconsider and remember what I loved about training and development.

So, I thank them both and embrace the metaphor that I am part of their family, as they are part of mine.  I’d do the Sally Fields thing, but David would tease me – even though in my head I’m thinking “you like me, you really like me!”  As inspirational blogs go, I have many to nominate and feel certain that I would inadvertently miss some.  Which is why I am going to nominate all the people who are kind enough to read my posts each day, comment each day and travel on the karma truck through all sorts of topography.  Thank you for being part of my virtual family.  Thank you for embracing me from the moment I started seven months ago and for encouraging me to keep the gas tank full and ready to roll.

 

anxiety, discretion, humor, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

Whichever Way You Go

mimijk

“I can’t say I was ever lost, but I was bewildered once for three days” –Daniel Boone

Another reason for me to feel sizeable respect for dear Daniel – only three days of bewilderment?  No wonder he became a tv star and iconic figure – the guy knew where he was going.  I imagine him looking for animal scat, tasting berries and understanding the topology of the land so well that he never needed to ask for directions. I’m bewildered most of the time – and that’s with a GPS system.

I’m not even sure I know how I ended up here.  Recognizing that I have been with myself  throughout the last fifty-eight years (with some minimal exemptions through infancy and a few times in college), it seems somewhat disingenuous to beg disbelief, yet…how many of us can say that our lives are playing out exactly according to plan?  This isn’t a bad thing – it’s a respectful nod to the reality that for all of our planning, devising, fantasizing, considered thinking – life is going to happen and unfold in ways unforeseen, ways both magical and horrible.  And for all the control that we wish to assert over our lives, we also have to let go and let it happen.  Because it’s going to with or without permission.

This is a hard pill to swallow for those I know who are pretty controlling.  And yet, it can also be freeing.   I choose to believe that the fates have been inordinately kind, giving me moment after moment to savor, chance after chance to try again, years of frenetic activity and days of magnificent solitude.  My losses have been deep and define my emotional shoreline, offering protection against day-to-day irritants that no longer cause further erosion.  Love is represented in the highest elevations and they continue to rise.  Laughter, like wildflowers gone amok, proliferate the land I walk.  And all that is unknown is the forest I hesitate to enter, at times choked by fear and other times brazen with curiosity.   But given my poor sense of direction I’m probably not all that intrepid – I only go as far as the light allows,  for I have to be able to see my way out of the density of trees.  This I think is the caution that comes with learning a few lessons along the way.

And so it is this morning, with the Sirs asleep (one in my lap, the other on my foot), hot coffee in hand and the most comfortable silence imaginable, I can tell you that I have no clue where this road leads.  What I know with certainty is that I’m walking on some spectacular ground, surrounded by the whispers of my friends and family on the wind.  I’m planting as much of my best as I can, for I do believe that you get out of this journey what you put in.   And with that knowledge wherever I end up, that’s where I’ll be.  Ooh la la..

inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, parenting

A Really Good Man

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“You don’t raise heroes, you raise sons.  And if you treat them like sons, they’ll turn out to be heroes, even if just in your eyes.” –  Walter Schirra Sr

 

See that gorgeous baby?  Today he turns thirty-one – at around 10:47AM.  As much as he will shake his head with disbelief and some embarrassment that I am writing about him today, he can be comforted with the knowledge that he remains anonymous to most who will read this.  Truth is, it’s his birthday to celebrate; it is mine to remember.

I’ve assumed many hats in my life, and played at many roles.  We all do this – it’s part of growing up.  The one hat that I always wanted to wear was that of  ‘mom’.  I couldn’t wait.  I would admonish my six-year-old peeps if they were rough on their stuffed animals (my theory being that all these toys came to life once we slept, and their retribution would be fierce).   I was a maternal kind of friend before I could spell ‘maternal’  – or even knew what it meant.  Whatever I became professionally was serendipitous; becoming a mom was my touchstone.  If I became nothing else, so be it.

Memory blurs years together which must be why they pass so quickly.  One moment a baby is born and from that point forward time accelerates, making it impossible to isolate and hold each moment.  I can still remember holding and bathing him, the smell of his neck…I thought his baby toes were replaced with ten little pearls.   He squinted like Mr. Magoo, the lights were too bright.  So I’d squint back at him and dim the glare.  When he was nine months old he spent an entire night pulling himself into a standing position and then plopping down on his butt.  The next morning, he held on to a chair as he rose and wobbled into the dining room.  I was on the phone with my mom while I watched in disbelief – he had only crawled for four days!  Where were these days going?

We developed our own language and as awful as it sounds, I reluctantly brought him for speech therapy.  I wanted him to be able to converse with everyone; I wanted him just to talk with me.  He had one of those baby laughs that bubble up from the belly and just erupt into the room.  His grandmother’s toes were a real hit, don’t ask me why.  I couldn’t get enough of this child – I still can’t.

He is of course now a man – a really, really good man.  I respect him tremendously, though I love him more than that.  I love his heart – he will dismiss this publicly and appreciate it privately.  His sense of the greater good, his relentless work ethic.  He’s loyal and highly principled.  I love how much he loves his wife, how close he and his brothers are.  He’s very handsome.   I appreciate that he asks for my opinion though I fully expect him to do what he thinks is best.  I understand that I had to let him go into his life, and he understands that in many ways it is impossibly hard to do.  I keep trying to get that balance right.  My sons have grown into heroes in my eyes – not because of me, but in spite of me.

There are days when I just want to stop time and make cookie pizza, hold one on my lap and the other under my arm and repeat the chorus from “Horton Hatches An Egg”.   I want to watch a high school baseball game and learn secrets that most moms don’t get to hear (I am very very aware that I wasn’t told all of the secrets by any stretch).  It’s okay to want all of this, but time has its foot on the pedal and is driving this train.  So I’ll savor today and celebrate his birthday,  from his first breath to the man he has become.  May each day bring him all that he wishes for and may he wish for all that he has.  I love him all there is – Happy Birthday..