I turned 56 yesterday. I used to omit the actual number: I’ve always sort of been in denial about growing older. I feel mentally that I stopped aging at 37. I’ve always felt much younger than my actual age, and I’ve been blessed with good genetics in that physically, I’m much younger than the 56 years my body has walked this earth.
I had absentmindledly booked my 3rd vaccination for Covid for the day before my birthday. Dumb. Although my reaction was not near as bad as the second dose had been, it was still nasty. I spent a sleepless night drifting in and out between fever and chills, and sharp pains and aching bones.
Sam and I had our second vaccine on the same day back in the summer and as such, we had commiserated our similar reactions and gripes over the phone with each other. But this time I had to go it alone.
I have a hard time remembering dreams these days. They are so fleeting that I don’t have time to sit up and write them down before they are erased from my memory. These last few nights though, I’ve had a sense that Sam had been in them as I woke up feeling some comfort which I can’t explain. But in the early morning hours of my sleepless birthday morning, for some reason I remember asking him where he lives now, and to which I heard a reply in my head ” oh I have a house”. I really dont know anything about the other side, or how our energies go about existence, but it feels good to think that he has a house. And I hope it is perfect for him. I suppose it could have just been the fever, but I really feel as if I heard those words in my head, and it wasn’t me who thought them. If that makes any sense?
Anyway, my 56th birthday came and went and today I embark on the second day of my 57th year. I received so many well wishes from friends both near and far. My children sent me a beautiful bouquet of roses, freesias, orchids, lillies and carnations. I cried when I saw Sam’s name was also included in the right order as it always was, on the card. It was tears of both happiness and of sadness, as I knew I wouldn’t get that third call with his voice on the other end. But, whether it was fever or not…. at least I feel as if I talked to him in the early hours of my birthday morning.
For the Love of Sam 