It has been too long since I’ve blogged, and I’m not sure if it’s laziness, exhaustion, denial, progress, or just simply getting older.  This Friday is the day – the day I’ve dreaded for so long, the day that first number turns from a 5 to a 6, the day I have earned, and the day I didn’t think my heart would survive until.  As a profound believer in rites of passage, I am pulverized that these wrinkles, these body aches, these reading glasses, these stretch marks, and this plethora of gray hairs are not accompanied by the giggles of grandchildren and their precious handprints and mini-Picasso artwork on my refrigerator.  

As most of my readers know, it’s also my Zack’s birthday.  He’ll be turning 32, but I only had him for 21 of those years.  My Sportchop, the Most Handsome Man on the Planet, and my forever Chuckles is living a life about which I know nothing.  I pray it’s a happy and healthy one, and I remain so grateful that we share the same birthday and that G-d blessed me with him and his sisters.

Friday will not go without hoopla, and I’ll be celebrating with friends who have become my family.  Our favorite restaurant, Aldo’s, will be the location for the festivities, and there will be no shortage of booze and schmooze.  With a couple of surprises up my sleeve, I will honor my New Year’s resolution to be completely in the moment, embracing those who stay, love, support, hope, console, encourage, and continue to be my pillars and buttresses.

It has been a year, and last month alone brought the anti-semitic atrocities of the Bondi Beach carnage, the egregious Brown University shooting, and the senseless and shocking stabbings of Rob and Michelle Reiner.  Then, 35-year-old Tatiana Schlossberg, JFK’s granddaughter, tragically passed away from cancer, leaving 2 babies behind and sustaining the Kennedy curse.  Prices and hatred are up, morale and decency are down, and each day brings vile, toxic, threatening, and vengeful social media posts from the White House.  The cost of healthcare has become prohibitive for so many, and our president and his clown car of cretins are deriving such pleasure from the suffering of others.  

We just returned from a cruise on the Queen Victoria, where I honestly felt like a princess for 7 days.  The people, the cabin, the entertainment, the food, and the ports of Bruges, Amsterdam, and Cherbourg were downright enchanting,  and the civility and cordiality of all with whom we fraternized were noteworthy and remarkable.  It was never lost on us how fortunate we were to be on the voyage, and we blotted up every ounce of the luxury that Cunard was serving.

One particular highlight came in the form of meeting the lovely Karen and Paul.  Gorgeous inside and out, we first met them at the Gin Bar and bonded over way more than the cocktails.  We spoke of triumph, truth, and tribulation, and I felt as if our friendship was so much more than fledgling.  The laughs were so frequent and fluid, and the conversation was so real.  It’s funny, because we had exchanged phone numbers and emails one morning early on in the cruise, and I told Karen that I would send her my blog when we returned home.  I didn’t need to though, as she found it on her own and had read it before we met that night for drinks.  I’m not sure how she found it, but I was glad that she did.  For so long, I have kept my story and myself so guarded, but now it and I can be found.  And, as I thought about it, I decided that maybe I can be found because, for the first time in my life, I’m not lost.

Happy New Year to all, Happy Birthday to my Zack, Happy Birthday to me, and peace, love, and grace all around.