My 64th Year

 Denis Leary said there comes a time in a man's life when he ought to realize his birthday is no big deal -- and that's probably age 8 or so. I used to agree with him, until I believed in the Big Man, and now I see things in a different light.

Since I truly believe my life is the supreme gift from Him, it seems graceless to fail to honor that gift -- and the time to do that is with the passing of each year. So though I don't want any big parties, or weekends away, I DO acknowledge today, and give thanks for it.

We're hosting Joelle and Kenny, and yesterday her reconstruction surgery went well. Paul was in Kendall on some step son car business, and Kenny was on vigil as Joelle got her procedure, so the 3 Ashkenazim, one pure Philly, one pure NY, and Kenny, the half breed, all met at Roasters for lunch.

Kenny got the call that all had gone well, and left for South Miami Hospital, the place both Ds were born, and Paul left for errands and I came home. Later in the evening, Kenny came home -- Joelle opting to spend a night the better to control post surgical pain, and Kenny is already gone this am to SMH. Hopefully she comes home later, and I'm guessing we bring in some dinner to celebrate, hopefully, the end of her long slog of treatment, and my birthday as well.

I spent some time grappling with tech, which I don't do well, and accomplished something worthwhile -- I transferred Marlins tix I bought to Barry, D1, Joey, and kept 2 for myself. Scott is flying in this weekend for his Dad's 61st, and I scored us some Fish tix -- close to the plaza, for bathroom ease of access as well as food.

It'll be Baby Man's first game! At 2 -- no ticket required -- I have a feeling he'll enjoy running around and eating a hot dog than he will watching the last place Marlins.

So as I was writing, and preparing to go to my workout, a text came in: the Ds had ordered a surprise Uber Eats breakfast from Boulangerie, a great local French place. Since it's Miami, the owners are Venezuelan Jews Jonathan knows -- but quite delicious. Since Wifey was fast asleep, I called my trainer and told him my birthday workout was not to be -- omelettes and croissants trumped that.

Shortly after the food, Kenny and Joelle arrived -- Joelle in pain but doing pretty well. We ate, and after we finished, Wifey made her way down. As D1 noted, the early bird got the nutella croissant, but Wifey was taken well care of, nonetheless.

I plan to spend this day doing pretty much nothing. Hopefully Joelle rallies and we can bring in some good dinner -- to toast another year, and, very critically, my dear friend's being past a nasty medical diagnosis. 

That would be the sweetest gift of all.