A Birth Day

Saturday, September Morn 29,  2001

In the San Bernardino mountains, 
only a 100 miles away in Big Bear, California,
 but a world apart


I write this on an autumn day in the spring of my autumn years in life. 

On this life's journey, I have been generously gifted with the presence of remarkable men, women, children and animal friends. Intertwining their lives with mine, they have graced my time on Earth with their shared passions, hopes and dreams.  

Before I and they become lost memories in the winter years of my life, it is time to bring life to this online journal, as this September morn, I awoke with the thought, "Today is the first day of my second half century..." I was feeling peacefully happy, and yes, relieved, that I've made it this far.  

I've had a few close calls.


"But then there was a star danced, 
and under that was I born."
~ Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

Yes, I am turning 50. 

I was born in Hawai`i on Saturday, September 29, 1951 at 4:53 pm, HST.  I live in Southern California now, so at 7:53 PST this evening, I will officially cross the half-century threshold, The Big 5-0.  

I am Saturday's Child
What day are you?

According to Any-Day-in-History, the CBS network telecasted the first football game in color on my birthday. 

>> Here's what else was going on in the world on 9/29/51

 In 1951, this is what was going on:

- One and a half million TV sets in U.S., a tenfold jump in one year.
- Cinerama will briefly dazzle with a wide, curved screen and three projectors.
- Computers are sold commercially.
- Still camera get built-in flash units.
- Coaxial cable reaches coast to coast.


As is my morning ritual upon awakening, my day begins gauzily in prayer. Just as breathing keeps my body alive, praying keeps my spirit alive.  For me, prayer is as essential as breathing.

I pray a gratitude prayer for the gifts of the past 49 years. Then, I ask for "A Closer Walk with Thee" and continued Presence and Guidance. I ramble, as I often do in that netherland.

As I transition to Earthside, I grow increasingly more wakeful.  With deliberate care, I acknowledge each and every member of my Heavenly Family. Listening, I am once again  thoroughly assured:

 All is well.


When DH (short for "Dear Husband," the moniker I've given my husband for this journal) awakens, he smiles, whispering "Happy Birthday, Sweety Pie."  We snuggle close. I love him so very much.  Our bond is a solid one, so precious. 

Our dog-kids, O and Freddy B, hearing us, enthusiastically pile on us to help us greet the day with their slurpy kisses.  

I make a quick calculation and declare, "I'm 350 dog years today. Yowwwww!"  

Twenty days later, I've caught up with DH in chronological years.  He, too, was born in September in the morning, on September 9, 1951 at 5:42 a.m. He is a Sunday's child -- "fair and wise, good and gay."

Yes, we were born 20 days apart, on the same island, in the same town (Hilo, Hawai`i), in the same hospital, but we were not to meet until 20 years later.


We are September's Sweet Children. Today, both of us are now in "Our Fifties." Chronologically, we may be adults, but our inner children are alive and well, thank you.

He's looking mighty fine to me, and his spirit, more beautiful than ever. We're happy, healthy and One.  I couldn't ask for more.

When our feet hit the deck, I decide that I'm going to start my next half-century thoroughly cleansed, from top to bottom. I draw a bath. I step in and luxuriate in the bubbles. O and Freddy B keep me company alongside the tub.  O adorably rests her precious little chin on the side of the tub looking at me, while Freddy B busily laps up splashed water droplets.  

I just now got out after a long soak. I've sleeked my hair back into a ponytail.  Wearing my favorite mountainwear, I'm ready for this day, this next half-century, donning a white t-shirt topped with a cranberry-colored travel vest over tan khaki shorts, Mickey earrings, wedding ring, sportswatch, and phoenix ring.  

Barefooted, just the way I arrived 50 years ago.


I am exactly where I want to be to celebrate this landmark day. In front of a broad expanse of windows, upstairs in the sitting room, in our mountain home, our "Heaven" on Earth, overlooking the lush green lawn and flower gardens.  

DH and dog-kids are noisily rustling up breakfast downstairs.  

Outside, sunlight is filtering through the still pine trees.  There's a  cloudless blue sky in every direction.  From where I write this in the sitting room, I can see outside in every cardinal direction; we call this room, "The Aerie."  Outside, it's a perfect fall morning, warm enough for shirtsleeves and shorts, but with a perceptible nip in the air.  

It is lovely.


I am grateful to be here. I appreciate my life. God shares His gift of Life with me, and I'll be sharing bits and pieces of it with you.


"Life is a Gift."

This online journal will chronicle my life, what is left of it, God willing. A birthday gift to myself. We, the web journal and I, now share the same birthday.  I expect it to take on a life of its own. 

My life is but one (1) of  6,193,498,394 on Planet Earth.  A teensy tiny drop in a huge bucket of teeming humanity. Mine is no more important than any other, no less.  Mine is a special life, but no more special than any other life. But maybe that's why I wish to chronicle it. 

It's a chronicle of a life.  A singular life.


As a budding reader, I devoured biographies;  I must have read every biography on the shelves of the bookmobile that visited my village every two weeks. As an adult, I continue to relish biographies and autobiographies.  These days, I read online journals for pleasure reading. While I live my own full life, I do augment it by vicariously experiencing many lives. 

I enjoy getting into other people's heads and thoughts through their own words. Gaining valuable insights and perspectives this way, my life is enriched and enhanced.  I've read the gamut of lives.  Whether simple, complex, extravagant, humble, famous, not-so-famous, and not famous at all, each life holds its own value and is given its unique lessons.

Perhaps, this journal of my life in real time will hold a gift or two for you.  At 50, I fully acknowledge that my life has been a gift, and I am ready to write with my heart. I have some things to say about my life and what it means to be human in this time and space.


It is my hope that I will share this life well with anyone interested. I believe:  

"The best gifts are those we share with others."

If you are interested, fine.  If you're not, that's fine, too.  Being graciously accepting of other people's choices is one of the acquired graces of being 50.


As I write, DH is busy in the kitchen.  After he bathed, he announced, "I'm going to make you a birthday breakfast." And now, here he comes, climbing up the stairs, hands full, with dog-kids trailing behind him.  

It's a No Holds Barred island breakfast of sausages and over-easy eggs, drizzled with shoyu, with hot rice on the side, seasoned with sesame seeds and sea salt furikake on red "You're Special Today" plates.   And steaming Kona coffee

Mm-mmm, smells wonderful, looks great!   The Big Five-Oh is starting off just fine.

See you later.

Happily, on her birthday,
Author Unknown


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This web journal was created on a September Morn, 
September 29, 2001
September Morn 2001