When you get to my age, and it's your birthday, you either act like it's not happening or you just drag all the gusto you can, for as long as you can. I choose the latter. If I've got to admit I'm a year older, let's make a week-long party out of it. Ken asked me if my new flute could qualify as a birthday present, haha (see how I made that into a joke)! In actuality, it might qualify for a decade of birthdays, Christmases, Valentines and love-gifts, but don't tell him that.
Phase I of the birthday-ing was spending the night with my sister. We stayed at the Marriott in downtown Carrollton (talk about a treat -- that place is gorgeous), ate dinner, shopped the Encore on the Square and mostly talked. And that was the best part. We have 15 children between us. Yes it's true. She has 11 and I have 4 (and our brother has 6). We also have 18 grandchildren between us, 9 each, neck and neck, with another one on the way for us. We are not Mormon or Catholic or mentally ill. Passionate Protestants and we're taking over the world. There is no joy like she and I being able to simply talk for hours uninterrupted.
Phase II was coming home and having most of our kids, their spouses, grands and my Mama over to grill out and hang around a bonfire in the backyard. The grandkids played and squealed, I got dozens of hugs and love, we ate, laughed and talked. My idea of heaven.
Phase III was Ken pampering me all weekend with whatever I chose to do, ending with yummy steak at Brothers restaurant in Villa Rica. I took a nap Sunday, a little later than I should have, and woke to an empty house. Ken had gone on to church by himself while I rested. It was a good Sabbath day even though I skipped evening service.
With another year behind me, I look forward to whatever God has in store. He's creative and I never know what that might mean. I just know that He does all things well.
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