May 16, 2010
“And in the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.” – Abraham Lincoln
I’ve been playing on a teeter-totter of emotions for the past few weeks, seeming okay one minute, only moments later to find myself a puddle on the floor, so it was welcoming this morning when I woke to an amazing sense of calm and awareness, and dry eyes to boot. Just like every other morning, I grabbed a dog and hit the trail. A cool, foggy mist hung in the still air, casting an eerie haze, the silence only broken by chirping birds, as they welcomed the light. The rain from the night before left the air smelling of wetness, mixed with the mustiness of wet trees and damp foliage, and a lone coyote trotted a short distance ahead, pausing every so often to look back in our direction before ducking into the bushes that line the trail. It was easy to take in the moments.
After I got home, I sat at my computer with a Starbuck’s donut which they call “Birthday Cake.” I’m not much of a donut eater, but the pink sugar icing looked pretty and today it made sense. As I checked my email, there was one in particular that caught my attention. A forward sent to me by someone who obviously didn’t know any better, that asked if I was aware that 1 in 4 dogs over the age of 2 will die from cancer. Ironic that I should receive it today.
Today is Cain’s birthday. My mind tells me he would have been 11 years old while at the same time my heart tells me he is 11 years old, for in my heart he still lives on. His presence is all around me and I like to think he was instrumental in changing my mood by gently reminding me to be aware of each moment that I am gifted on this beautiful day, and every day. Though it was all too short, Cain definitely had life in his years, and on a beautiful day in May so long ago, he decided to share it with me.
So today, without tears, I’ll celebrate the life in his years and every single moment with pink sugar icing and fond memories of Cain.