It is lovely, when I forget all birthdays, including my own, to find that somebody remembers me. Ellen Glasgow
I tend to wax nostalgic on my birthday. I’ve been on this earth for 58 years now. Most of the time spent in awe and wonder, interspersed with occasional times of inevitable sadness.
My son’s father sent me a picture that drew my mind back into the past. In the picture I’m standing on the beach in Macau with my 2 children, looking across the bay at mainland china.
This moment in time happened about 35 years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday. The feel of the sand on my toes, the warm sea air caressing my skin, my son’s sweaty little sumo wrestler body clinging to me like a baby monkey, my daughter asking a thousand questions, delighting in every sea shell – every grain of sand. It was a peaceful day that’s been lingering in the back of my brain for decades.
I think living a long wonderful life takes a bit of mental effort. If you let your brain sit back and randomly spew memories, you don’t know what you’re gonna get. A deliberate choice to remember happy times takes some mental gyrations, but the rewards are plentiful.