Today is my 62nd birthday.
These days 62 isn't considered very old. But for me, it's a miracle. Eighteen years ago I had my first of two catastrophic illnesses. I still remember the doctor telling me that I probably would not survive and that I'd best make sure that my affairs were in order. When your life expectancy shrinks to days and hours from decades and years, your perspective changes. Really changes.
This happened again, ten years later, and again I was asked to prepare myself for the ultimate farewell. It was then that I plotted out what I wanted to do if I survived. My career path completely changed as a result and my focus and goals were redefined.
Leaving the hospital, that I'd walked into, in a wheelchair meant only one thing - I was leaving the hospital. Joe and I worked together to incorporate this new reality into our life and, for the most part, succeeded. I see him and our life together, differently, because of these experiences.
I've had 'happy birthday' sung to me several times in the days leading up to my actual birthday. And, I realize, it is just that: a happy birthday. I'm glad to be here, I'm glad to have time to work on things that matter to me, I'm glad for each day that Joe and I have with each other. I'm glad of it all.
So today I'm 62.
And I couldn't be happier to be here, celebrating the day and giving thanks that I've been given two second chances.