Deborah Woehr

I received a nice surprise yesterday when an old friend called to wish me a happy birthday. We talked for a good half an hour about a variety of things. Then she got on the subject of making time for your friends and how tomorrow might not come for one of us. This was after she told me about two colleagues she had lost in two separate accidents. She ended that vein of our conversation by saying that we need to get together soon.

I agreed, not because I was afraid that one of us would drop dead at any moment but because of the way she buoyed my spirit and made me laugh. She’s twelve years older than me, so she’s been through the things I’m going through now. After I hung up the phone, I realized that I felt better than I have in months.

The rest of the day went peacefully. I watched TV with my boys, played around with Bryce (a 3-D graphics software package), and enjoyed a nice stromboli dinner when my husband came home. I’ve been drooling over the latest Adobe upgrade and hinted to my husband that I wanted it.

We came away from the dinner table stuffed, and watched Big Brother (why, I’m still not sure). I waited patiently. Maybe he’ll bring it out when we’re ready for the cake. Halfway through the show, we took a break and went out back for a smoke. I spotted the cake on the counter, but no gift.

Did he forget? I tried to put it out of my mind as we talked about the show. The boys came out shortly after we did. I looked at them and at my husband. They were smiling and happy. Their faces and laughter buoyed my spirit.

But that stupid, childish voice kept whining at me inside my head. “What? Not even a card?!”

I hated that voice. It kept trying to ruin the moment with its petulant stubbornness. In the end, that voice overcame my common sense. I smiled and said, “Do I have anything to open?”

My husband gave me a knowing smile. “That’s why I tried to entice you to go out to dinner tonight,” he said. “Are you disappointed?”

“No,” I said honestly. The thought was in his mind, and that was good enough for me.

“I knew I was going to take you somewhere to get something electronic, but I didn’t want to get the wrong thing. We can go out to dinner this weekend. Then afterward we can get you some books . . .”

I didn’t quite hear the rest. As soon as he mentioned an evening out, the rest didn’t matter. We went back inside and finished watching the show. During a commercial, he commandeered the boys into singing Happy Birthday to their mother.

When I got home from work today, I found a small gift sitting on my kitchen table. The boys told me that my mother-in-law had come to take them to the movies and left this behind. My youngest was sweet enough to cut the ribbon so I could open the gift.

Once I got the wrapping off, he groaned. “That’s a happy face! Man!”

My oldest said something in response to his brother’s reaction, but I don’t remember now. I smiled at them and at my mother-in-law’s thoughtfulness. What I thought I wanted for my birthday no longer matters. What I received was priceless and special.