Today was a good day. Thoughts of Thomas ran in and out of my mind as they always do - and there were certainly moments of dark sadness - but it was still a very good day.
And it was my birthday.
My present to me, it seems, was allowing myself to enjoy the day - letting myself find happiness in a sunny day spent with a good friend and an evening spent with family I love. I watched a huge bumblebee dance lazily over rows of pansies and felt deliciously alive. I ate until I was stuffed and felt blissfully content.
I laughed and meant it.
Last year I approached my birthday with dread and horror. I simply couldn't fathom spending it without Thomas, and turning 35 with no living child to call my own was terrifying to me. Unthinkably so.
My situation hasn't changed. I still had to spend the day without Thomas. I still don't have a living child to call my own. And to top it off, now I'm one year older.
But time has healed me enough to allow me to embrace joy when I stumble upon it. And I did - all day long. I reveled in it, as a matter of fact. I drank it in like wine and savored every single drop.
I had a good day.
I almost can't believe I had such an unbelievably good day.
Happy birthday to me!