I turned 50 last week.
It was awesome (snicker, snicker)
(Actually, since my Forties was the decade of the dog bite and Rheumatoid Arthritis, I am hopeful that my Fifties will be kinder to me...)
The best part about any birthday is the outpouring of love.
And I felt it.
Especially from my daughter Bethany who went to great lengths to plan a surprise party for me.
FOR ME.
And I was surprised.
And almost embarrassingly blindsided by it, but it was super sweet.
One of the treasured gifts I got was my Grandma Brown's beautiful personal history.
It was wonderfully put together by my Aunt Joan with the help of my sister Kathleen.
I read it from cover to cover in one sitting.
I laughed.
I cried.
Seriously I did.
Mostly I just rejoiced in the blessing it is to be part of her posterity...
I was reminded of a letter she sent me when I was studying in Jerusalem...
Grandma Brown had a way of making you feel that you were the most important person on the planet to her.
I'm pretty sure all of her grand kids felt that way...
Sometimes I wish my kids could really understand how they won the lottery with the family they were born into. And what a great opportunity that they have to draw upon the strength of the magnificent people that are part of their great heritage.
From their own Grandma and Grandpa Brown, and Grandma Kaneshiro, all the way back to those who crossed the ocean to get here.
What a blessing of faith and strength.
And even with a half a century under my belt, I feel that from my head to my toes, and deep in the corners of my heart.
I am blessed.
Here's to 50 more years.
Ugh. Just kidding. Maybe just 35 or so?
