A toast to my wife, Susan.
A birthday is just another day I know.
Yet it does subtly turn the page on what’s been quite a year.
A year of sad untethering when your father’s breath was stilled.
A year of tremendous growth both literally and figuratively for your unique son.
A year of watching your intrepid daughter learning to fly as a cheerleader while continuing to stretch her wings as a young woman.
A year of continued success for you in your career.
I let my mind wander and gaze at our lives in the hazy future.
Where will our children go now that they stand at the start of their great maze with untold turns to endless possible destinations.
Even our own road is shrouded in the mist.
Who will we meet?
What will we do?
Where will we go?
When will we get there?
How will we add to the world?
All queries whose full answers we can only glimpse through a very cloudy prism.
The only part I do see with crystal clear clarity is my hand tightly grasping yours as we walk down the path together.
Walking, not into the sunset, but into the sunshine.
Walking, not to an easy chair, but into the adventure.
Walking, not in circles living a well worn story, but in great happy strides as we chart our own reality.
Here’s to you today Susan.
I love you. Happy birthday.
And thank you for holding my hand.
Make It a Good Story 
