All day long my phone buzzed with happy birthday messages.  I couldn’t tell you the birthdays of 5 people in the world and so I was somewhat puzzled that so many people remembered my birthday.  Maybe because it was my 60th birthday I thought.  Maybe I had mentioned my dread of turning 60 to enough people that they remembered.  It wasn’t until tonight that a friend texted me a happy birthday notice saying she had seen it on caring bridge that I felt like I wasn’t the only person in the world who doesn’t remember everyone’s birthday.

I was pretty sad all day.  I didn’t want to be 60.  I can live with 59, bit 60 is old.I had a stressful day.  I swear sometimes that all of my clients get together and send me emails at the same time asking for advice or reports or meetings.  Don’t get me wrong, I love all of my clients (especially any of them reading this) but sometimes you just have one of those days.  Between that and my self pity of being old, it just wasn’t a very good day.

Late in the day though, my epiphany came.  Thirteen years and one month ago today at about the time the epiphany arrived today, I got a phone call.  “You have leukemia.  You need to go to the hospital immediately”. I remember saying only one thing to the doctor:  “Am I going to die?”  He assured me I would not and the hardest six months of my life followed.  I’ve written about all the stories of my treatment.  I have always feared I might forget how hard I fought to live and today I think I forgot.  I forgot that all I wanted when diagnosed was two more years of precious life.  I forgot the day the doctor told me that I need to go home and get my affairs in order.  I forgot that I should have been dead by now, not once but twice.  I forgot the day my doctor at MDAnderson told me I had a chance to live and I broke down and cried uncontrollably. I forgot the 105 degree day a few days later when I sat outside a Starbucks in Houston sweat pouring off my bald head, sobbing uncontrollably because my treatment plan for life was momentarily taken away.   I forgot that I never dreamed in a million years that I would live to be 60.  i forgot that I knew I would never live to see my grandchildren.  I forgot my friends that fought the fight so hard but didn’t win the war. I forgot everything all of my friends and co-workers did to support me.  i forgot that every night I was in the hospital, every night for three months, that Patty slept in the makeshift bed beside me, refusing to go home, even for a night, to sleep.  I forgot the nights that I laid awake waiting fo the 10 minute morphine pump light to go on so I could push the button again.  I forgot that my mom came to Houston and sat with me every day, mostly in silence in fear that her child would die.  I forgot that my dad got up every morning at 3:00 am, the time that I got my daily chemotherapy infusions, to say a prayer.  I forgot the ride home from Houston to Sioux Falls after the transplant when I vowed that nothing would ever stress me out again.

For reasons unknown to me, God has given me 13 years of life I never thought I would have.  It haunts me that I don’t know why I have been given this time.  I am still not thrilled be 60 years old.  But I am thrilled that I have lived to be 60.  I am glad I turned 60 today if only because it gave me a chance to remember not to forget the fight, not to forget how blessed I have been.

I have my annual check-up on Monday at MDAnderson.  I feel good and so I hope it goes well.  i know I ask for prayers a lot but if you have a chance to put in a good word for me I would appreciate it.  I really think it works.

Sometimes I forget that everyone is fighting a battle in life.  Some battles are bigger than others but we are all fighting.  Never forget.