Tugging the beautiful shiny mylar balloon downward and in through the front door, I placed my shoulder bag on the floor. I hung up my coat, took off my shoes, grabbed the balloon, and made my way toward the living room. Piano music filled my ears, and I remembered it was Thursday, my daughter’s lesson day.
I peeked into the living room. On the coffee table lay a small pile of presents and a few cards. Then my wife’s voice came from the kitchen, “Happy birthday, honey.” Her warm smile greeted me.
Yep, my birthday’s come again. Tonight we would open those gifts, head out to my favorite restaurant, eat some cake. The five of us would be together.
As I gazed out the window at the sun reflecting off barren winter trees, I silently marked the moment in time. How lucky am I? I thought. How lucky, indeed.