The celebration continues!

YAY!!!  Because birthdays shouldn’t be limited to ONE measly day a year now, should they? That special feeling, that feeling like THIS IS YOUR Day, should happen EVERY day. Spread ’em out over  the whole year. Every year.

I do. Because I like being my own center of attention.

I call ’em my re-birth days. And it doesn’t matter if anyone else knows. It’s a matter of waking up knowing that no matter what happens...this is my day.

I discussed this with my friend Jana this morning. That’s her up above. Well, it’s her hands and her yummy ‘lucious latte made with steamed almond milk. Which was quite tasty, by the way.

Jana and I live in the sticks. In the forest that surrounds our funky old gold mining town. The streets are steep and narrow and as we walked from the car to the cafe we talked about life.

And death.

We both lost our mothers recently. Mine in April, Jana’s only a couple of weeks past. Mothers. Daughters. The decision to be there for a loved one when the outcome is understood. To take care of them when things are ugly. To let them go, let them die. With dignity, compassion and love.

Walking down the steep narrow sidewalk, the kind that’s uneven from tree roots and settling, I saw a couple of street people sitting on a concrete retaining wall. Smoking. Personally, I would’ve been more comfortable on the other side of the street where we could pass one another with enough space between us we could just walk on by. As it was, we had to walk single file to get past them. And since this is California we had to say hello. Because that is what we do here, say hello to strangers.

Even if they’re out of our comfort zone.

But Jana, who was behind me, said it like she meant it. Like the brief exchange was an honor and a privilege and these were not strangers, they were individuals worthy of her attention. And they responded in kind.

When we got to the cafe Jana picked a table by the window. We hadn’t seen each other in a long time and had some catching up to do. We don’t see each other very often but every time we do we marvel at the connection. We are so alike. And yet so different.

I feel like there’s a soul connection.

So we drank our coffee and talked. I mean talked. And watched the world go by outside. There was a man on a bench. Homeless by the look of him. I noticed one of the cafe workers approach him with a small bag.

I’d ordered a quesadilla. Which was huge. Way too much food. But it was SO good. As the conversation wound down and we were getting ready to leave there was still half of it on my plate. I thought about the street people we’d passed. Wondered if they were still there. Wondered if they might want what I hadn’t finished. But I didn’t share those thoughts with Jana.

The man from the bench came into the cafe. He sat at a nearby table, drinking from a paper cup. That’s when Jana told me she did volunteer work with the homeless. She recognized him from the shelter.

And then she asked if she could give him the rest of the quesadilla.

Oh man, she made his day. He ate it like it was the best thing ever. Which it was. And then he told us, quite loudly and way more than once, thank you!

We got up to go. I’d been eying some windows across the street. Old windows. Heavy shutters. Nice contrast of colors. Of light and shadow. I stepped outside with my camera and took a few pictures. When I was finished I realized Jana hadn’t followed me out. She was still in the cafe. Talking with the man. Laughing with him. Looking him in the eye. Clasping his hand.

Actions way beyond my comfort zone.

Whack upside the head. Spiritual AHA! moment. And best damn re-birthday present ever. The gift of seeing love and faith in action. And realizing I still have a long way to go.