Sunny Side Up Nov. 29, 2006 �2006, Kathleen Gibson Counting my blessings at fifty A few days after my (intentionally) quiet fiftieth birthday, Amanda phoned. "Mom, would you watch Benjamin this afternoon while I take Tabatha for blood tests?" "Sorry! Can't." I said. "I'm going to Glenda's." "What time?" "Around two." She thought a moment. "That could work. I'll take Tabatha at one, and I'll drop you at Glenda's on my way home." I hated to refuse, but I had to. "Nope. Glenda's decided I need some good photos to remember turning fifty. She's booked a photographer - I have to dress up. I can't play with Benjamin properly, dressed up." Amanda - uncharacteristically - pouted. "Do you realize," she said, "that you've spoiled my plans for my entire day?" "Well, darlin' daughter, it was either spoil your plans, or let you spoil mine. Today I chose me." She gave a mock growl, said good-bye and we hung up. But something niggled at me. I was sure I'd told her about going to Glenda's. The Preacher behaved strangely too, that day. "I'll drive you," he said, "I need the car this afternoon." Then he dawdled - highly uncharacteristically - putting me behind. Something's afoot, I thought. Girlfriend Glenda greeted me at the door. The Preacher followed me in and we stood at the counter chatting for several minutes. I relaxed. No surprises. How foolish of me�. "Surprise! Happy Birthday!" Without even a warning shuffle, Amanda, her camera flashing, and more of my dearest friends erupted in a flock from an adjoining room. Benjamin Bean toddled in too, happily bemused. Amanda and Glenda had co-conspired (and lied!) for weeks, it seems. Her earlier 'call' had been an effort to get me to my surprise party, leaving the Preacher free to pick up the guests without transport of their own. I ate far too much that afternoon. Didn't even try to resist the chocolate fountain, the pinwheel sandwiches, the dips and dippers - or the magnificent cake. And I laughed more than I'd laughed for weeks, opened more presents than I have for years. Can we ever thank God adequately for our true friends? I'm completely undeserving of mine. They make me rich. Some weren't there, but those who came blessed me with something I'll cherish long after the toiletries are used up, the books read, the other gifts forgotten. That afternoon, those women circled me, placed their hands on me, and one by one, lifted their voices to the artist of our souls - in prayer for me. Like music, their benedictions rose above us, swirling directly to God's throne. If you've never been prayed for by good friends - aloud - you've missed an infinitely precious and humbling experience. But it was my daughter's prayer that especially touched me. Amanda spoke to God, but I couldn't help overhearing. Her words could have turned my head, if I let them - something about the inspiration I've been to her, and her best friend�. (Despite my refusal to grandbean-sit earlier that day!) Oh, Lord, ditto. And thank you for fifty remarkably blessed years. Respond Home |
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