Celebrating a birthday when you are my age can be a day of quiet reflection.
Here, in LyndaLand, my little coral-colored phone rang all day and into the late evening of the next day. More than fifteen of my cherished ones called. Half a dozen sang. I am blessed beyond words to be so loved. This pile of thank you's went out to show how incredibly grateful I am to everyone who reached out to me this week.
Piper and Ginger stopped by with the most amazing gifts: They wrote letters describing our relationships and how important we are to one another. Full page, hand-written, from deep within their hearts; accompanied by drawings of us. I am touched on a level so intense it's difficult to write about it and keep my emos under control.
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Typing is problematic right now: I had thumb surgery just over a week ago and am immobilized for another month. I have never learned to type with one hand. Have you ?~!
Trapeziectomy for those who want to look it up to see what Dr K did to me. Supposed to relieve the intractable pain I was suffering. We'll see. The first five days post-op were a bitch. It's better now-less painful, still cumbersome. At this point, the right thumb will not be getting its surgery any time soon.
Since washing the mop of hair was impossible with this thumb situation, I had it cut off by my dear dear Laurel. Now I can wash it and brush it myself. Thanks, Laurel.
Much love and many thanks to all my buds,
you made my 60th the Best Birthday ever !~!
