Ms. Elizabeth, you are a very able writer. This essay brought a measure of added joy to an already bright-ish morning. Acknowledging the memento-mori reality, and yet ... being enchanted by the extraordinary graces of this ordinary life.
Thank you so much, Thomas. That means a lot to me. I love the phrase “the extraordinary graces of this ordinary life.” That’s exactly what I was trying to put to words. Enchanted, for sure!
I'm so glad that part resonated with you. It felt true as I wrote it—and even more so hearing it reflected back. Isn't it amazing being amazed!? 77 - brava! Thanks for taking time to read and comment, Jill.
Beautifully written. It is a gift to be alive. Our families are gifts even when they are annoying, mostly in the gift column, but sometimes . . . . . Thanks for being you. Happy Birthday.
Ha! That made me smile. And yes, families: mostly gift, occasionally... character development. I keep working on being grateful for it all. Appreciating the happy wishes and that you're here, Sarah.
I’m on that same wavelength Elizabeth. Hearing of all the tragic lives lost too soon to floods, war and other atrocities only serves to remind me that I’ve been granted “bonus time” to live out my days. I try to make good use of that gift. ❤️
That’s a beautiful way to put it, Janet—bonus time. I feel the same. Every day really is a gift, and I see this perspective play out in how you live your life. Happy to be on the wave with you!
Such a great question. I don't have a definitive answer, but in the sense that we're always becoming something new, or different, yes. Especially if I consider that time may not be linear. Then again, there are anchor moments, times when we feel deeply rooted, like we belong. Good thing we can keep exploring together, right? Thanks for asking and for being part of the conversation today.
Ah, Kim, I'm glad it landed well for you. I have to practice presence and openness everyday, but I do find it gets easier the more (and the longer) I do. Thank you for this comment and for your lovely restack remarks. Day making!
Happy birthday, happy sigh. 😊😊🤗 A special piece. So much resonated. I’m the one who shares joy at the markets. I chat to my neighbours, walk their dogs, note the years passing as my years of retirement grow longer, full of chosen tasks which spread joy. We’re at a similar time of life. There is much to celebrate and sadnesses to note. Life is so special. Thank you.
Lovely, Beth. You’ve painted such a warm, vivid picture of what sings in everyday moments. I’m grateful to be connected with someone who embraces life’s full spectrum with such grace. Thank you.
A response from a dear friend in Italy with whom I shared today’s essay:
Questo lo devo dire in italiano, per essere sicura che risuoni nelle parole tanto quanto dentro di me.
E’ una delle cose più intense e belle che abbia letto negli ultimi anni. Profondo e leggero, è un atto di luminosa saggezza che ho amato parola per parola.
Grazie a chi lo ha scritto, e grazie a te che me lo hai mandato, che come me non ti dimentichi e che insieme - anche se nei pensieri - ci accompagniamo attraverso questo cammino nel mondo.
Elizabeth, you are touching the world with your words.
Grazie di cuore, to you and your friend! What an affirmation! I'll admit to relying on Google Translate which seemed to capture the depth and sincerity of the comment. Please pass along how much it means that they took the time to respond. And also know how grateful I am that you took the time to share. We are in this together!
Gosh Elizabeth. Your words really touch my heart. Maybe that's part of the Aging situation. I get to feel the deeper parts of me. Settle down into the experience of just being.. alive. There's no more chasing, running or hiding. It's just.. being. Sitting with oneself presents a different set of circumstances but if not now.. when?
I love this, Linda -- that aging lets us bloom into the deeper parts of ourselves. It’s such a gift to simply be and show up fully. Here’s to growing and unfolding, no matter the years!
I will wait until tomorrow to wish you the happiest birthday ever but today I want to thank you for acknowledging the best days of life... As you refer to them they are wondrous.. Yesterday I found myself leaning up against an old redbud in my yard... The redbud is not as old as I, but it too was dealing with its aging process.. gnarly shape... limbs distorted.... Insect eaten holes in the bark.... Even signs of surrender here and there.... It looked just like this a month or so ago..... And look similarly a year ago.... My 60 year old redbud... Surprises me each year as it did a month or so ago.... In the midst of all this breaking down.. the gorgeous redbud pink blooms come forward and fill most of the tree with hope and a lesson to me...... There's some natural things happening.... But I'm still blooming.... The best I can...
Barry, I love your redbud story and its beautiful reminder that even with wear and weathering, there’s still so much growth and hope. Here’s to your own flourishing, in whatever form it takes, and to those moments of surprise and grace each year. Thank you for sharing this with me. Your best is pretty great.
Sometimes talking about the easy things, the weather, the name of a color, a book, the shape of the clouds, the bird that flew by, can make a real difference. (Such small talk is so often what someone needs.) So can reaching out to hold someone's hand, to take that time, that slow walk, to be there, and to listen. These are the gifts we know you give, again and again. It's a beautiful thing.
I am glad you are facing the new year with optimism, gratitude, and appreciation for the gift that each day means. Important things to keep in mind, and you shared that beautifully in this post.
Love this: "So, I will live. Soften. Ripen. Practice being who I think I want to be. I will savor my days, knowing it only takes a hint of sweetness to balance the sour, the bitter, the salty."
Truly appreciate the happy wishes, Amy. My farmers market exchange was so tender and likely only worked because I know them both so well. I had a lot of practice dealing with cognitive impairment with my parents. That helped, too. People just want to be seen and to feel as though they still have some agency in their lives, right?
Love knowing which line captured your attention most. Great big thanks!
You're a sweetheart, Wendy. thank you. I’m grateful to share whatever little gifts I can. Feels like all I can really do. I'm honored by your presence here, friend.
I'm glad to have found you. As far as "all" you can do...it's a lot, not just reminding us that there are others who care (which is monumental), but in sharing your stories, you give us a blueprint to inspire further kindnesses. Don't know that I'd have thought to do what you did here, but now I will...
Elizabeth, I want to wish you your happiest birthday yet—with many, many more to come. ❤️
As for your question, how do you know you’ve become old. Only when the birthdays come, I think. I thought I was old at 50. Then at 60. Then at 70. When I reached 80 I was shocked, but happy that I was still alive and kicking. I’d had a long bout with breast cancer and that changed everything.
I’m grateful now for every birthday, and I’m grateful that I still get to live my life in a way that gives me enough independence to manage on my own with only some slight and welcome help from my friends and my family.
I cherish these days, even when I’m suffering through some Trump regime nonsense, trying to figure out how I can write about it without repeating everything I’ve said before. That’s part of life—mine, at least. The need to stay involved keeps me going. But there are quiet moments, lovely moments, those gifts that ripple through and remind me that this life is so worth living.
Mona, thank you! I hope those birthday wishes come true for both of us!
I'm surprised you thought yourself old at 50. Knowing what a spitfire you are now, I can only imagine your spunk more than three decades ago! 😁
Your resilience and commitment to staying engaged—even when life gets hard—inspire me and others deeply. I’m grateful for the quiet, lovely moments you speak of, and for the gift of connection with thoughtful friends like you. Appreciate you weighing in.
Ms. Elizabeth, you are a very able writer. This essay brought a measure of added joy to an already bright-ish morning. Acknowledging the memento-mori reality, and yet ... being enchanted by the extraordinary graces of this ordinary life.
Thank you so much, Thomas. That means a lot to me. I love the phrase “the extraordinary graces of this ordinary life.” That’s exactly what I was trying to put to words. Enchanted, for sure!
My own love of your piece are the thin saplings that are now huge shade trees.
WOW.
Life is a bigger WOW every day: that's how I realize I'm growing older (77 now).
I'm so glad that part resonated with you. It felt true as I wrote it—and even more so hearing it reflected back. Isn't it amazing being amazed!? 77 - brava! Thanks for taking time to read and comment, Jill.
I love to hear truth sung out as yours is.
Beautifully written. It is a gift to be alive. Our families are gifts even when they are annoying, mostly in the gift column, but sometimes . . . . . Thanks for being you. Happy Birthday.
Ha! That made me smile. And yes, families: mostly gift, occasionally... character development. I keep working on being grateful for it all. Appreciating the happy wishes and that you're here, Sarah.
Oh goodness...same thinking here, Sarah!
It is a gift to be here, and thanks for coming into my life. Hope they spoil you rotten tomorrow for your birthday!
Thank you, Teresa. I’m so glad our paths continue to intersect. And, I won't say no to a little spoiling! 😊
I’m on that same wavelength Elizabeth. Hearing of all the tragic lives lost too soon to floods, war and other atrocities only serves to remind me that I’ve been granted “bonus time” to live out my days. I try to make good use of that gift. ❤️
That’s a beautiful way to put it, Janet—bonus time. I feel the same. Every day really is a gift, and I see this perspective play out in how you live your life. Happy to be on the wave with you!
Oh and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
☺️
And is all life a liminal space?
Such a great question. I don't have a definitive answer, but in the sense that we're always becoming something new, or different, yes. Especially if I consider that time may not be linear. Then again, there are anchor moments, times when we feel deeply rooted, like we belong. Good thing we can keep exploring together, right? Thanks for asking and for being part of the conversation today.
Happy birthday Elizabeth! I wish you many moments of peace and joy as you navigate the coming year. This is a lovely, uplifting post. Thank you.
I’m carrying hope for the same, Donna, reaching far beyond me. And I'm lifted by your presence here. Thank you!
Perfect. Just perfect. This is a loving example of living in the moment with an open heart and a generous spirit.
Ah, Kim, I'm glad it landed well for you. I have to practice presence and openness everyday, but I do find it gets easier the more (and the longer) I do. Thank you for this comment and for your lovely restack remarks. Day making!
😊
Happy birthday, happy sigh. 😊😊🤗 A special piece. So much resonated. I’m the one who shares joy at the markets. I chat to my neighbours, walk their dogs, note the years passing as my years of retirement grow longer, full of chosen tasks which spread joy. We’re at a similar time of life. There is much to celebrate and sadnesses to note. Life is so special. Thank you.
Lovely, Beth. You’ve painted such a warm, vivid picture of what sings in everyday moments. I’m grateful to be connected with someone who embraces life’s full spectrum with such grace. Thank you.
A response from a dear friend in Italy with whom I shared today’s essay:
Questo lo devo dire in italiano, per essere sicura che risuoni nelle parole tanto quanto dentro di me.
E’ una delle cose più intense e belle che abbia letto negli ultimi anni. Profondo e leggero, è un atto di luminosa saggezza che ho amato parola per parola.
Grazie a chi lo ha scritto, e grazie a te che me lo hai mandato, che come me non ti dimentichi e che insieme - anche se nei pensieri - ci accompagniamo attraverso questo cammino nel mondo.
Elizabeth, you are touching the world with your words.
Grazie di cuore, to you and your friend! What an affirmation! I'll admit to relying on Google Translate which seemed to capture the depth and sincerity of the comment. Please pass along how much it means that they took the time to respond. And also know how grateful I am that you took the time to share. We are in this together!
Gosh Elizabeth. Your words really touch my heart. Maybe that's part of the Aging situation. I get to feel the deeper parts of me. Settle down into the experience of just being.. alive. There's no more chasing, running or hiding. It's just.. being. Sitting with oneself presents a different set of circumstances but if not now.. when?
I love this, Linda -- that aging lets us bloom into the deeper parts of ourselves. It’s such a gift to simply be and show up fully. Here’s to growing and unfolding, no matter the years!
I will wait until tomorrow to wish you the happiest birthday ever but today I want to thank you for acknowledging the best days of life... As you refer to them they are wondrous.. Yesterday I found myself leaning up against an old redbud in my yard... The redbud is not as old as I, but it too was dealing with its aging process.. gnarly shape... limbs distorted.... Insect eaten holes in the bark.... Even signs of surrender here and there.... It looked just like this a month or so ago..... And look similarly a year ago.... My 60 year old redbud... Surprises me each year as it did a month or so ago.... In the midst of all this breaking down.. the gorgeous redbud pink blooms come forward and fill most of the tree with hope and a lesson to me...... There's some natural things happening.... But I'm still blooming.... The best I can...
Barry, I love your redbud story and its beautiful reminder that even with wear and weathering, there’s still so much growth and hope. Here’s to your own flourishing, in whatever form it takes, and to those moments of surprise and grace each year. Thank you for sharing this with me. Your best is pretty great.
Happy early birthday!
Sometimes talking about the easy things, the weather, the name of a color, a book, the shape of the clouds, the bird that flew by, can make a real difference. (Such small talk is so often what someone needs.) So can reaching out to hold someone's hand, to take that time, that slow walk, to be there, and to listen. These are the gifts we know you give, again and again. It's a beautiful thing.
I am glad you are facing the new year with optimism, gratitude, and appreciation for the gift that each day means. Important things to keep in mind, and you shared that beautifully in this post.
Love this: "So, I will live. Soften. Ripen. Practice being who I think I want to be. I will savor my days, knowing it only takes a hint of sweetness to balance the sour, the bitter, the salty."
Truly appreciate the happy wishes, Amy. My farmers market exchange was so tender and likely only worked because I know them both so well. I had a lot of practice dealing with cognitive impairment with my parents. That helped, too. People just want to be seen and to feel as though they still have some agency in their lives, right?
Love knowing which line captured your attention most. Great big thanks!
The world needs more Elizabeths. How fitting that for your birthday, you're the one giving us a gift. ❤️
You're a sweetheart, Wendy. thank you. I’m grateful to share whatever little gifts I can. Feels like all I can really do. I'm honored by your presence here, friend.
I'm glad to have found you. As far as "all" you can do...it's a lot, not just reminding us that there are others who care (which is monumental), but in sharing your stories, you give us a blueprint to inspire further kindnesses. Don't know that I'd have thought to do what you did here, but now I will...
☺️ Smiling about that!
Elizabeth, I want to wish you your happiest birthday yet—with many, many more to come. ❤️
As for your question, how do you know you’ve become old. Only when the birthdays come, I think. I thought I was old at 50. Then at 60. Then at 70. When I reached 80 I was shocked, but happy that I was still alive and kicking. I’d had a long bout with breast cancer and that changed everything.
I’m grateful now for every birthday, and I’m grateful that I still get to live my life in a way that gives me enough independence to manage on my own with only some slight and welcome help from my friends and my family.
I cherish these days, even when I’m suffering through some Trump regime nonsense, trying to figure out how I can write about it without repeating everything I’ve said before. That’s part of life—mine, at least. The need to stay involved keeps me going. But there are quiet moments, lovely moments, those gifts that ripple through and remind me that this life is so worth living.
Mona, thank you! I hope those birthday wishes come true for both of us!
I'm surprised you thought yourself old at 50. Knowing what a spitfire you are now, I can only imagine your spunk more than three decades ago! 😁
Your resilience and commitment to staying engaged—even when life gets hard—inspire me and others deeply. I’m grateful for the quiet, lovely moments you speak of, and for the gift of connection with thoughtful friends like you. Appreciate you weighing in.
❤️❤️❤️