I woke up on Saturday, January 22nd, not feeling any differently, yet I did. I was grateful, reflective, and optimistic about the trajectory from the special gifts the year 59 placed firmly into my lap. Glad I was able to grasp them this morning and not let them slip into the past like I had every other year. I believe I was here to deliver a message, knowing I’m just the messenger and not the possessor. After 59 years, I sat, or I guess you could say, laid in the hospital again for life’s mid-term exam. I needed to prove my resiliency, faith, and conviction were true and that genuine humility had reached my core.
I looked into the mirror as I washed my face. I could see that lovely craniotomy scar slightly blurred from the retina detachment recovery in my left eye. I’m a little heavier than this time last year because of the 5,000 mg of Prednisone I ingested. My shoulders looked a little bigger; I smiled and convinced myself, “That’s from carrying my life’s load.” I believe these physical battle scars are meant to be constant reminders, something to keep a little tension and humility in the chain. A couple of lifelong crosses that I have to bear. Everybody’s got their own.
As the final pieces of my life’s puzzle fall into place, I can quickly see natural connectivity in things. I can only beam with the new knowledge that these events are not by mere chance but are preplanned. All of them were waiting for me to catch up, so they could be finally revealed with my corrected vision. This new, humbler, wiser, and peaceful me can now see my life more profoundly than I could have ever imagined a year ago today.
Happy Rebirthday to me!
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