Lughnasa Waxing Artemis Moon
Kate’s birthday has drawn to a close. We spent part of the afternoon continuing to assemble her long-arm quilter. This machine is big, a full 10 feet in length, large enough for a queen size quilt. We have the base set up and need now to put on the rollers and mount the quilting sewing machine. That’s the last step and she’ll be off to the races.
In some ways birthdays are so ordinary. Every one has them. They commemorate a day, a particular spot in the earth’s orbit, when birth occurs. Births are common; we’ve each been through at least one, the women among us sometimes many more than one. People are common; there are billions of us. Billions.
At the macro level birthdays are ordinary. But in the particular, in the idiosyncratic, in the once ever in all of history side to it, birthdays are downright unique, very special, celebrating the beginning of a life, a life that will never be lived again, will never be lived by anyone else. So special.
Take Kate, for instance. There is no other person on all the earth, in all of history like her. She’s a combination of genes, a lived history, a spark, a singularity. She has a rare compassion, a keen mind, manual dexterity, dogged persistence, creativity and a talent for relationship. I’ve been lucky that my own journey joined hers.
Here’s to another 20 journeys around our Sol, maybe 25, for Kate and me.