I looked at The Body Shop online tonight. I’ve got a coupon for my birthday to use sometime this month. I’d like to try the vanilla body wash. Of course, I have to smell it first. I love a real vanilla smell, not the commercial vanilla smell that tends to be just sweet smelling and not really vanilla much at all.
I just got a birthday card from my Mom.
You are the author of your own life.
It’s up to you to dream it, imagine it, sketch it, shape it, build it, go after it, and make it happen.
And then colour it in with bright, shining shades of joy and deep, lasting shades of meaning that are yours and yours alone.
No one else can know the dreams you dream or the strengths you have within you that will help you make your dreams come true.
No one else needs to.
Because they’re yours.
And so it today.
To a Nephew, Born During a Mexican Hurricane
A hurricane welcomed you into this world
Winds have pushed you along from a tow-headed toddler
to 2 diet Cokes and 2 freezies, chips and dip and the newspaper.
A boy who looked for magical creatures with me.
A boy getting tall, stronger and not so much a boy any more.
I remember you. I watch you.
Your life has been a part of my life.
You grow fast, the speed of wind.
So many things I could tell you, talk to you about.
I’ve seen all kinds of storms, rainy days, snowy afternoons
If I could give you all of it, like a book to read, I would
But, life comes in steps and you have to take each one yourself.
Still, you’re never facing the wind alone.
I can block some of the wind while you check your map
Remind you to bring a coat, wear your boots.
Feed you and keep you and watch your hurricane blow.
Written by my nephew,.
My last minute
As a person of my age
I feel time slipping by
And it’s a feeling that I hate
But we all get older
We all grow up
And even though it can be good
Sometimes it sucks
So here’s to new year
Full of magic and life
And hopes that by next time
I’ll have grown in my age
Happy Birthday Zack. You’re getting older, wiser but you’re still lukewarm (not 18 and hot, yet).
Tomorrow the birthday hits the fan though. Has anyone ever wanted to be 44? It just sounds old. Repetitive too. 42 wasn’t so bad. For a year I was the answer to life, the universe and everything. 44 is just a waste of space. Like a stutter. Not that I’m willing to skip it and rush into 45 though. Now that I think about it… 44 isn’t all bad.