This birthday was really my favourite so far.
Mommy loves to tell the story of the day I was born. As soon as I was all cleaned up and looking beautiful, they handed me to my Daddy. Of course, I was yelling my fool head off as babies tend to do. He smiled, patted my rear, and snuggled me close.
Now is the season, the time of the year towards the end of January and the beginning of February, that I get catapulted from a time of bith celebrations, into the furnace of grief – to go back through the smithing process again, for refinement.
I hope I will forever be grateful, even when inevitably things go wrong; this is my life and I’m in love with it again.