Today is my birthday.
Exactly three weeks ago I had a fleeting thought that I wouldn’t see my 39th birthday when my car rolled and I was rushed into emergency surgery for a lacerated spleen and internal bleeding.
It puts a whole new perspective on birthdays. Up to now they’ve generally been seen as just another year with many more to come. As I sit here, I reflect that now each birthday I will be grateful for making it this far.
I’m not a fatalist, nor am I much of a worrier of death. I never get skittish when I’m flying – even when there is really bad turbulence – and I never even think about that kind of stuff when I’m driving.
Looking back on my accident, I realize how easy it would have been to be killed in an instant – no warning. I didn’t think much about turning 39 before three weeks ago. Now I’m really happy I made it. Maybe that’s the true meaning of “Happy Birthday.”