the mysterious art of celebration

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GINNY.  It is my lovely wife’s ½ birthday, which is the day we choose to celebrate her.  Ginny’s actual birthday corresponds with the day Eliot left our world, and so that day has carved a holiness all its own.  But today is about celebrating my favorite person that walks this earth.  For her birthday, I got her a little blog re-design, so feel free to go check it out and while your at it, leave her a birthday wish if you want to help me make this day wonderful for her.

Also, in an annual rite of passage- one whereby I strive to blog more, I am hoping to revive 7 blogs in 7 days.  This is merely a trick I play on myself where I pretend that anyone cares and that- since I have said I would blog daily- some poor soul has bought into it and is booting up their computer to read my blog, and that if I don’t come through with a blog post then they die.  So come back often this week- or don’t.

With adoption impending, Ginny’s birthday today, our 10^th anniversary tomorrow & our house on the precipice of becoming a construction site, I figure I should have some material.

With two incredible days back-to-back this week (Gin’s birthday & 10^th anniversary), you may be surprised to find me moping around a bit.  I am a harnessed horse; a painter in a straightjacket; a bird walking roads- because although, in regard to money, I am typically tighter than the lid on your grandma’s strawberry jam.  I loosen up for special days and events.  I have been known to be a bit over-the-top with surprise gifts of automobiles, trips and over-thought activities.  But this year, I am restrained to an agreed upon budget.

We have always managed to travel for our anniversary somewhere- Eureka Springs counts- but this year we’re holding on to every dime and storing it in a jar marked Lena (I know I can be willy-nilly with the analogies, but what I mean is… there’s a jar marked Lena).  And so I’m currently devising plans, trying to outdo last years birthday or anniversaries 1-9, drawing upon the creativity bank instead of the one that holds our money.

Because if life thus far has slipped me a note it is this:
you’ll never regret over the top celebration of the wonderful gifts in your life.

For me, a birthday or an anniversary is worship.  When chatty women gather with plates packed with chocolate tonight on my deck, they do so to honor the splendor that leaks out from His creation named Ginny.  And don’t give me the rig amoral about worshipping the creator or the created.  It didn’t take five minutes of marriage to know that she isn’t worthy of worship.  But she- with all her cracks and weakness and fragility- is more than worthy of celebration.  That’s why I can’t roll with any religion that doesn’t let me throw Texas-sized parties for those around me.  For it is in these that I have seen Him most; and when your bone-dry thirsty and desperate, you jump up and dance when the clouds that beckon become visible.

But, in the end, my moping is feigned or forced, something done more out of obligation than true conviction.  Because, truth is, life slipped us another note along the way and it is this:  the most beautiful things come at a cost.

And we have paid high costs for unfathomable joy- such that the current costs for what is to come makes us smile- we’re being asked to pay pennies when we would gladly hand over it all.

Though the food at tonight’s party may be meager, the value we place on those that gather will be immeasurable.  And when we travel to dinner instead of Florida, we will discuss what her middle name will be.  Now that, to me, is a more beautiful celebration than I could manufacture.