I just woke up this morning, and I started the day with a warm glow. I feel happy, proud, hopeful, and grateful. Today is thanks to all that others have done to keep me alive; today I am proud of all I have accomplished, all that I have done to take care of myself and keep myself alive from one day to the next; today I accept another number after “I am”– a badge of courage, a badge of success, a badge of survival. I’m even proud of my mistakes today; you know why? Because I lived through them, I learned from them, and they helped make me who I am today. This morning I’m awash with a feeling of acceptance about my whole life– all the good times, bad times, successes, failures, finds, losses, smiles, tears… every moment of my life so far has brought me to this point, and look! I’m alive, I’m happy, I’m hopeful, and I’m grateful.
Today is a celebration of my mother’s carriage of me to term — of her decision to have me — and of her successful birth of me. My mother died last October, but if she were still alive, she would once again say, “today is my birth day,” and she would be beaming with pride in me and love for me. Well, mom’s not here this year, but I’m loving myself for her. I’m proud of myself for her. She and my father and God and everything-and-everyone made me. Today is a celebration of me– this unique individual, this creature, this person. There is not, never has been, nor never will be anyone else exactly like me. I’m special, I’m loved, and I love myself. Today is a very good day.
Had my first good cry since my mom died. In the bottom of her handbag, I found a brand new white coin purse with plenty of coins in it, but I also found this old leather coin purse I made for my mom when I was seven years old. It had only two coins in it, and she didn’t need it in her handbag, but she kept it in there anyway. It — I — meant that much to her.
This Labor Day weekend I remember fondly the week after my first Labor Day weekend with Andy, in 2003. We had met on Memorial Day weekend, and after we stayed together past Labor Day weekend I thought, “Good! So it wasn’t just a summer fling.”