I knew her birthday was coming up. Her 70th birthday, none the less.
We’re not talking 30. 40. Or even the celebratory awe of the big “5-0”.
70. It’s huge.
And I was gripped with fear and trepidation.
What in the name of all that is good and holy do you give a 70 year old woman who owns everything she has ever wanted {relatively speaking}, and has need for no tangible thing…?
Especially when she is such a lavish gift-giver herself!
Seriously. I was stumped.
And dreading the approach of said birthday.
Until the ”book of love” crossed my mind.
Briefly.
I promptly squelched it. Way too overwhelming. I pulled it off for my hubby’s 25th {5 years ago}, compiled one for a best friend last year for her 30th…but 70? You’ve got to be kidding me!
Surely she needs socks. Or underwear. Or a back-up copy of Planet Earth in HD? Oh please, sweet Jesus…let her need something more, well…doable. And, if I may be honest…less time consuming.
As I wrestled with my options, the magnitude of my selfishness weighed on me.
Love. She needs love. Lavishly. 70 times over.
And love, I could do. Love, I could afford.
How hard could it be? After all…with 70 years of life behind her, surely I could gather 70 “things” from different people who had walked alongside her during that time!
Fueled by my desire to bowl her over with something money surely could not buy, I got to work.
And the love poured in.
70 things we love…admire…respect…appreciate…enjoy about our dear friend. Our friend who celebrates 70 years of life. Today.
Friends, family, neighbors, past colleagues, a medical student she took under her wing, a peace corps volunteer she worked alongside in Sierra Leone, they all contributed. Eagerly.
One book.
Filled to overflowing with the best gift anyone could ever ask for…pure, unadulterated love.
But you know…the greatest part of a gift like this, without fail, is the delight of being the one getting to assemble this masterpiece of affection from the many little pieces of “life-shared” I was given, overwhelmed by a swollen heart before the honored one even knew it existed.
I get a glimpse – an intimate and powerful one – into their lives, the richness of their history. And I always come away with a greater appreciation and love for the star of the show.
It’s an astonishingly beautiful thing.
One that would have been missed had I opted for socks or underwear.
{gulp}
Happy Birthday, sweet friend!
