Dear BFN Family,
According to the official document, Gail Lynn Jacobs was born at Two Rivers Municipal Hospital on April 28, 1968 — 6:30pm.
Was it really 6:30… on the dot? Or, was that just an estimate? I mean… in 1968… when clocks still had hands… did somebody really pay close attention to when I took my first breath?
Dr. John E. Nilles certified that I was born alive at ‘the place and time on the date stated above’.
His word is good enough for me.
I have a vague recollection of Dr. Nilles as my childhood doctor, back when family practitioners took care of families from birth to death. This speaks volumes in my sphere of awareness, as I suspect he took his Hippocratic Oath to heart. In every show I ever watched, there was no man more respected in town than the family physician.
Besides, every time we visited for a sore throat or a shot, I was allowed to choose a prize after being a good girl. My pick was almost always a sizable (meaning the ring size could be adjusted with a squeeze or pull) ring with a fake diamond, emerald, ruby, or sapphire. Never mind that the band left a sickly green circle around whichever finger sported the loot.
Enough about that…
In approximately 58 1/2 hours I will have been breathing in and out for 53 glorious years.
Not every hour has been a party, nor has every hour been a struggle. Up and down carousel style is how life goes. I like it that way. At the ripe old age of 53 I have a new found appreciation for the broken road that led me to where I stand today. Reborn. If it was all sunshine and roses, I think I’d be missing the point.
I do have a birthday request…
Please do something generous for yourself this week — buy yourself tulips for the kitchen counter, eat an ice cream cone in the sunshine, take a morning walk and listen to the birds, sing in the shower, write a letter to someone you love, or eat an oversized piece of Tiramisu. I might do all of them. :)
While you do this generous thing, please think of me, if only for a fleeting moment. And then… if so moved… tell me about whatever you did… and how it made you feel. gailboenning@gmail.com
Now…
I must address today’s BFN title.
The muses have decided it is ‘go time’ for their book.
They have informed me that daily BFNs must be tabled. What do I think they are? Percherons? Shires? Clydesdales? Surely while writing a book, they’ll make better if they write like Appaloosas, Belgian Trotters, or Painted Ponies.
My habits are simple: long periods of thinking, short periods of writing.
~Ernest Hemingway
I’ll refrain from offering any rhyme, reason, or plan for when BFN will show up next… because the moment I do… the Merry Band of Three will spur or pull back. I am at their mercy now.
Wish me luck!
Looking forward to your messages,
G
Hi Gail!
Happiest of birthdays to you! I found your birthday challenge to be quite the adventure and wanted to share with you the way I took you up on it.
What would I use this latest prompt in self generosity?
What I had been contemplating is where I'd always assigned an excuse to something outside of my perceived control.
Why am I not traveling up North when I can? That led me to reading Wandering Words in the wandering woods about a month ago.
What I came up with this time is the generosity of reconnection. I opted to surprise my sister on Wednesday with pizza for her and my niece. They live nearby, but I'd always had an excuse to not visit. I realized that I wasn't acknowledging the need or the benefits of that connection.
But...I had to somehow channel my inner Gail and find a way to experience the journey, not just the result or the destination.
I took the wandering route through South Minneapolis. Opened the sunroof. Let the city in.
I drove past George Floyd square, past boarded up buildings -- tears forming I was grateful for the drying effect of the swirling sunroof air. Past innovative restaurateurs and gyms finding every square inch of sidewalk to serve the community. Yoga mats next to transmission repair shops, with positions now likely called downward facing muffler I suppose.
Boarded up buildings next to murals.
Past Minnehaha Park with a trumpet playing in the distance.
Once I arrived with Pizza, salads and KN95 masks we took in the sunshine and watched my niece play with the neighbor boys. Just observing their joy and chatting about the sun -- or more accurately the lack of snow. The neighbor boy kept trying to eat from my sisters salad using her fork.
All the everyday moments -- the normal weird -- parts of life that I had not been generous with myself to experience.
Total time was roughly 2 hours, but the smiles both inside and outside lasted all evening.
Happy Birthday and thanks for the push...
Good luck and Happy Birthday today, Gail!! I'm venturing out into the world today, and will take you up on your offer to do something nice for myself. Hmmm.