A Loud Knowing

My birthday came and went quietly. No grand gestures. No unexpected magic. Just the simplicity of yard work, the soft joy of planting flowers, and the peaceful solitude of floating in the pool while the sun cast shadows across my shoulders, waiting for that storm to blow through. My youngest surprised me with two coffee drinks. My counter part who I share my position with brought me decadent cupcakes and a card that resembled my princess pony. A card was left for me at work by the monthly regular table of twenty. One of the younger girls texted me a sweet birthday wish. And that was merely enough because I no longer expect anyone to bring me what I now know how to give myself. (I'll see the other kids and grandkids tonight) But still... I felt it. That ache. That whisper of longing. Not for material gifts or surprises but for the unexpected osmosis of connection . The kind that can’t be planned or scheduled. The kind that happens when two people really see each other in the ...