September 17, 2025 #birthday

Just after midnight this week, I was jolted awake by Coco slamming into my back. And then my ears rang with lots of sounds. Joe, Sally, and Catalina had decided to throw me an early birthday party.

(Apparently, time zones don't apply in the afterlife.)

Joe, with his Pabst Blue Ribbon energy and fisherman's grin, was puffing invisible balloons into the air. But before he could tie one off, Sally swooped in, boa trailing, cigarette perched at the end of one of those possibly long holders. Pop! Pop! Pop! went the balloons.

Oh Joseph, darling, she crackled, You blow them up, I'll take them down. It's called balance.

Catalina, hoodie pulled tight, suddenly pulled out a kazoo and blue one long squeaky note.

I groaned, You know my birthday isn't until Friday, right?

Joe just chuckled and said, When you're dead, there's no clock to punch. Early is better than late!

Then he looked at me squarely, almost fatherly: You're almost my age now, kid. 55 – I was 58 when I went. Let me tell you something, every breath of air you take? That's a gift. I still remember the way the water smelled when I was fishing. Don't you forget it.

I sat up a little straighter. He was right.

Sally twirled in the corner, dramatic as always. Well, darling, I was blessed with almost 80 years of life, and I cherished every…

98.
Catalina cut in flatly without looking up.

Sally gasped, feathers flying. How dare you say that number out loud! Honestly, children today have no sense of mystery!

We all cracked up. Catalina just smirked.

Then Sally, in one of her rare but wonderful turns of seriousness, lifted her chin and gave me the look.

Listen here, birthday girl. None of us are promised a certain number. Milestones are just mile markers – they don't guarantee the road. Life is good if you stay in your lane, and if God tells you to switch lanes, you switch. Numbers don't matter. Levels do. Think of it like that silly little Mario game – every level, new colors, new characters, new meaning. And yes, sometimes you run out of lives, but the story doesn't end. Not really. Because darling… She leaned close, her boa brushing my arm, we are still alive, even when our bodies quit. Life continues, here, there, and everywhere in between. Now that is worth celebrating.

I couldn't argue. And maybe that's the reminder I needed before my double nickel's birthday: We're not meant to carry the weight of every number, every milestone, or every worry. We're meant to breathe, to live, to love – one level at a time.

Sally gave a dramatic sprinkle of birthday confetti, and whispered, And before you blow out those imaginary candles, your son Cameron says happy birthday.

I smiled, You know he's invisible, right?

Oh darling, Sally replied with a wink, invisibility doesn't mean absence.


So, happy birthday to my fellow virgos! Happy belated to my little brother Tommy! On Friday I won’t be available. THIS girl is planning to lay on her bedroom floor, turn off the world, light up some incense and a candle, and play the entire box set of Foreigner. Maybe sprinkle in a bit of Ozzy too. Because I can. xo