Quite a week

Gather Ye Rosebuds

Last Friday evening, the 12th of March, I was sitting in the middle of a birthday party surrounded by some of my dear friends and family and it was for me! Cake, Food, Flowers. Really, Really wonderful. The day before, my actual birthday, my hubbie woke me up with a handmade latte, a pile of presents, a call from my son who is 3,000 miles away and as the day progressed my father brought lunch over and then whipped me at several games of cards. At the close of the day my brother and his son called from Vermont and sing me a medley of birthday songs. My nephew is a young lad of 7 and his sweet true voice sounded like heaven on earth. This wasn't enough celebrating, on Sunday my sweets and I were scheduled to go on a little trip so I could spend time with another close friend. Boy, do I love everything about birthdays. Even getting older ain't so bad.

So, imagine my dismay when on Saturday, first the old man, then me a few hours later found ourselves in the midst of a bad bout of stomach flu. We cancelled our trip and hunkered in. {every couple should go through the stomach flu together=once}  By Tuesday he made it through a half day of work. Unbelievably I was still sick to my stomach and had developed a raging head cold that seems more like a virus. I have a temp, a rash, a plugged head and on and on and on.

Oh, did I mention that all this illness has made my MS rear its ugly head. 

I am realizing in this dramatic juxtaposition of events: from the heights to the lowest cruds in just a few days that I need to dig my toes into the warm earth of good days. Turn my face to the sun when it is shining. If Thursday and Friday were my last days on this blue ball, could they have been any better. Don't know how. I am surrounded by people who show their love in so many ways.

So, maybe this endless flu is teaching me to revel in the less grand moments. Everyone should celebrate their birth, being alive, and being loved. Everyone should build a life full of living.