I’ve always kept journals.
When technology wasn’t what it is today, I wrote in small notebooks.
Once in a while I like to read what I’ve written so many years behind and bring the people or the things that were happening to me during that moment up to date.
One of those special events in my life, are by the far most “birthdays”.
I love birthdays, it’s like celebrating New Year’s Day all over again.
It’s not about if you’re fat, skinny, bald, or what ever pains you, related with how you look (don’t get me wrong everyone wants to feel and look great), however I like to think it’s a bit more than that.
Today not only my family, but those who know us celebrate my husband’s birthday with great joy. More so because he almost didn’t make it past his late twenties.
He had a failing liver and was diagnosed with cirrhosis when he was twenty-five. However, that’s another story to tell.
The point is with each birthday we not only celebrate his new year, but the blessing of life.
Health, love, friendship and life, “mis amigos” are things many of us take for granted.
He has worried over the years and an ever present question has nagged him with each coming birthday,
“Have I been worthy?”
Most of the time, I don’t even answer right away because I know part of his question is rhetorical and my opinion would be that, “Absolutely, he has been more than worthy.”
However, I’ve always thought,
“Worthy of what?”
Well, it seems he’s been asking me all these years, if he has been worthy of living.
Going back to my life records (Journals),
I’ve lived times where I would have wanted to kill him,
others where I have loved him all over again,
others where I was more than grateful to have him in my life as he cared for me when I was diagnosed with Myasthenia Gravis,
others where I have seen him as a loving parent, treasuring each moment along the way,
others becoming a caring son for an ailing father taking it to another level as he ironed the clothes in which his Dad would be put down to rest, and
now caring for his Mom with everything he’s got in him, what can I say?
All of this couldn’t have happened because he wasn’t suppose to make it to his 28th birthday, and
Today twenty years later, in the warm circle of family and friends he can surely feel that he has been more than worthy to have gotten a second chance at what we call life.
So, you see my dear friends once in a while life throws us a curve ball and we get lucky enough to catch it.