Happy Birthday To Me!

Remember when you turned, oh, say 5 years old, and your birthday felt like the absolute biggest thing that happened that century? You probably had a party with your little friends in dress-up clothes and cupcakes with candles. Party games. Lots of presents. And a birthday card from just about everyone you knew?
Well, I don't think anyone dressed up, and I didn't have a party per se, but I turned 25 today with about as much good cheer, well wishes, and simple astonished wonder at how very very much I'm loved as I had when I turned 5. (and yes, there was a cupcake with candle)

The day started off with the usual sleeping in followed by Egg and Toast (Margaret's new absolutely favorite breakfast) and resting in between bouts of feeling mediocre. All this changed in the afternoon when my parents returned from picking up my mail at my apartment. I'd picked it up on Wednesday, so despite my roommate's warnings I wasn't expecting the armload they poured on me.
It was almost too much - like I wasn't sure I should be allowed to open it all at one time, but since it was my birthday, I just sat down and had myself a party opening card after card after card and even a few packages. It was so very wonderful to read your words and think of each person and how special each is to me. Cancer sucks, and chemo is pretty nasty, too. There's no changing that. But I am unspeakably grateful to be told in such a concrete way and know, for sure, that I'm not alone and that I am very, very, very loved. Thank you. Now, before I slip into cliches or weeping, I'll leave you with a picture.

Me, warming up and checking my email in my Cow Blanket and my Big Bald Head after a Birthday Smoothie.