I started life as a Jehovah’s Witness. I didn’t have a birthday celebration until I had little interest in them. I’d just as soon leave that day unmarked and keep doing my thing. It grew into an actual discomfort around recognizing the day of my birth.
Maybe I’ve watched too many people die to not count my life in moments rather than years. Maybe I’m too focused on the present and fear the passing of time. Maybe I was born an old crank.
Kristen and Westen did a lot to change that this week. I turned 45 on Monday and, with help from my mom and Kristen, Westen planned an elaborate treasure hunt.
Disclosure: The link below is an affiliate link, meaning I will earn a commission if you click through and make a purchase, with no additional cost to you.
It was based on Red Dead Redemption 2, a video game I enjoy. Although the whole adventure was fun, complete with tracking clues, seeking wildflowers, and hunting a bounty, the highlight was a surprise treasure.
This was my grandmother’s rosary. While I’m not Catholic, I feel an affection toward the traditions and rituals.
My grandmother was Mary Zerbey, my late wife was Mary Zerbey, and I’ve found, at least, one more Mary Zerbey in my family research. This simple image of Mary and Jesus connects me with my faith and my feminine ancestry.
This was the best and most important (excepting the first one) birthday I’ve experienced. I felt fully loved and protected by those around me and the many generations before.
