Monday, February 25, 2013

indulgent bash




I am forty-three years here. Today.

He once said that he planned for his fortieth, two years away. For forty days he would wake for the sole purpose of doing something he loved.

What a great idea, I said. So I took it and used it. Forty days. It was great to wake up and feel anticipation for that day's gift. Like Christmas two months later with a touch of groundhog day but the groundhog came out of his hole to find it was already Spring. So he danced. Forty days three years ago.

What he and his idea taught me and now I know three years later is there is no reason to wait for a reason since it is our choice to do what we love every day.

Today.
In my forty-three years here.
I vow to do forty-three things I love.
Can I do it? Of course I can.
Forty things in forty days is old school.

Here we go.


Number one. Wake up in my bed next to the coolest dog ever.

Number two. Say, Seriously? Billy Sue? Butt in the face? What about nuzzle a neck with a nose? You know some dogs do that.

Number three. Heat up coffee.

Number four. Turn on the new music.

Number five. Breathe.

Number six. Drink coffee.

Number seven. Light the candle.

Number eight. Check email.

Number nine. Look at blog.

Number ten. Look at facebook.

Number eleven. Check email.

Number twelve. Check twitter.

Number thirteen. Face off with the cats.

Side note*Don't know if I mentioned I now have two cats. Silly and Two. When I wake up they are hungry and they climb all over me and plead and I give in.

Number fourteen. Feed cats.

Number fifteen. Listen as Billy Sue finally gets out of bed.

Number sixteen. Take Billy Sue out.

Number seventeen. Feed Billy Sue.

Number eighteen. Sit down and start singing with the music.

Number nineteen. Walk outside.

Number twenty. Watch the rain.

Number twenty-one. Write.

Number twenty-two. Think.

Number twenty-three. Edit.

Number twenty-four. Remember the story last night Dad told me. About him and Mom and forty-three years ago.

Number twenty-five. Remember seeing Marlee.

Number twenty-six. Remember how Slater wrote only one word and that word was LOVE.

Number twenty-seven. Feel satisfaction.

Number twenty-eight. Heat up second cup of coffee.

Number twenty-nine. Edit again.

Number thirty. Think of title.

Number thirty-one. Start sipping coffee.

Number thirty-two. Think of other people and hearsay. Hope Kim is feeling better.

Number thirty-three. Listen to the lyrics.

Number thirty-four. Listen to the snores coming from behind me on the loveseat.

Number thirty-five. Remember how Slater wrote only one word and that word was LOVE.

Number thirty-six. Think about Slater.

Number thirty-seven. Breathe.

Number thirty-eight. Again feel satisfaction.

Number thirty-nine. Consider all the possibilities of people and laughs and decades of knowledge already planned and not already planned in this coming week.

Number forty. Laugh at a conversation Tempa and I had on our trip. Smile when I consider the fact she stills talk to me is a miracle.

Number forty-one. Wonder if Rick is awake.

Number forty-two. Start thinking about family and friends and what I can do.






Number forty-three. Decide that my gratitude is a decision and that today, the day that marks the forty-third year of a life, is a day I make a choice. Today I am grateful for the opportunity to make a choice.




7 comments:

Chantel said...

This was wonderful...all the lives you've touched. I'm grateful for that.

Happy birthday beautiful....xo

Anonymous said...

Several Advantages of Getting Old Kidnappers are not very interested in you. In a hostage situation, you are likely to be released first. No one expects you to run anywhere. People call at 9 PM and ask, 'Did I wake you?' People no longer view you as a hypochondriac. There is nothing left to learn the hard way. Things you buy now won't wear out. You can eat supper at 4 PM. You can live without sex but not your glasses. You no longer think of speed limits as a challenge. You quit trying to hold your stomach in no matter who walks into the room. You sing along with elevator music. Your eyes won't get much worse. Your investment in health insurance is finally beginning to pay off. Your joints are more accurate meteorologists than the national weather service. Your secrets are safe with your friends because they can't remember them either. Your supply of brain cells is finally down to a manageable size. Happy Birthday

Shea Goff said...

You two. It wouldn't be a party without you two. Thank you!

Debi said...

Happy Birthday, sweet friend!!!

Shea Goff said...

Thank you, my sweet friend!

Anonymous said...

Sorry so late! I hope you had a wonderful day sounds pretty fantastic. Happy Late Birthday!!
~CJ

Shea Goff said...

CJ! You've been missed. And thank you. I hope all is well in your world.