Several
months ago while Sweets and I were dating he engaged a subway panhandler in
conversation who announced to us, and the entire subway car, “Sometimes small
things are bigger than big things”. At hearing this pronouncement the carload of
city slickers took a moment in quiet introspection then joined together in a
group smile because we all knew he was right.
Over the past few days my panhandler philosopher’s words have filled my
head as I’ve celebrated my 43rd birthday bathed in happy goodness
pouring over me from some of the most unexpected sources.
Going into birthday
week I had no plans to mark the day, the thought of a night home alone with champagne,
BBQ and a cupcake was feeling perfectly cozy as the cold November weather settled
in. However by Wednesday evening this solitary celebration plan was replaced
with a Tapas Party due to the back to back texts of Gee birthday celebration enthusiasts,
T-Bone, Swason and Friday.
As my birthday
dawned I awoke at 5am because I wanted the longest 43rd Birthday
ever. I cooked a
By midday my
Facebook filled with birthday greetings from old friends far far away, close friends
around the corner and a person or two who I was all, “Huh, I’m friends with
you?” Facebook to me is one of those small things that is big, really big. Thinking
back to when I started running the support I gained from my friends on Facebook
inspired me to go stronger and harder and at times also overwhelmed my heart with
warmth.
Loving birthday
texts buzzed my phone throughout the day with wishes of happiness, power and adventure
for the year to come, even Friday texted me with some sassy birthday business
that made me blush and giggle like a tween. Then it happened, my mother called,
she never calls, I don’t know why she doesn’t call on my Birthday but I had
stopped caring years ago, but this year she called and that small thing was
HUGE.
Evening came
and with it my tapas and wine party at swank Cata. T-bone, Swason and Friday made
for a wonderful threesome even though none of them had ever met before. We feasted
and drank and drank and drank until our heads swirled and the patrons at the other
tables rolled their eyes in disgust of our zealous merriment.
It was fun,
it was lots of fun and as I sat there I couldn’t stop thinking about how so
very lucky I was to have all of this. I tried not to gush but I was overflowing
with the joy from an entire day of small things. I wanted to thank them, I wanted
to thank everybody who had communicated with me throughout the day (and since
the following days) but I couldn’t find the words to explain why all these
seemingly small gestures were so tender (and Big) to me.
Later that
night and into Saturday Friday and I extended the celebration. He is what I
need now, what we share is easy and fun. He’s confident, relaxed, cultured, and
overflowing with charm; he is also the only man who has ever asked to spend my
birthday with me. Seriously, FRIDAY, the guy I met at a bar a few weeks ago is
the ONLY man to remember my birthday and ask to celebrate it with me, i.e.
small thing = BIG THING. I feel peaceful with Friday, he doesn’t need me to
fill an empty space in him, I don’t need to act like the person he wants/ needs
me to be, I can just be me and when I talk he doesn’t read into my words or
create some odd alternative meanings he hears me and responds accordingly. When
Friday touches me or when we cuddle there is no desperation in his hands, he
doesn’t grab and grope as others have, as if I was the last woman on earth. With
Friday it feels like we are both full people who are complementing each other. As
I looked into his eyes Saturday morning I wanted to tell him all of this and
how thankful I was but I knew I was on the razor’s edge of being sappy and also
talking about “small things” when a guy is naked is NEVER a good idea.
I can’t remember
a better November 22nd due to the fact that all these small things were
bigger than big things and I am so grateful to have so many generous friends.
