Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

What does 60 mean? It's just a number. You should count smiles, not candles, and so I know this birthday was one of my best ever, because it was full of peace and smiles — a quiet birthday spent with John. It was decorated with gentle falling snow, and the the ringing of the phone from friends and family who remembered me today. There was a special meal at the Olive Garden, where I thoroughly enjoyed a meal of stuffed Chicken Marsala that I couldn't finish, and when the sweet waitress boxed it to take home with me, she included a tub of their wonderful soup that I had enjoyed so much. It was a day of little kindnesses such as this.

And then tonight as I started getting tired, I remembered a little poem I had run across this week. As I went through some things in the garage, I found this in a box I had put together from one of our trips to Hawaii. It was in my handwriting; I had copied it from somewhere on the Big Island:

Kimo's Poem

Never judge a day by the weather.

The best things in life aren't things.

Tell the truth; there's less to remember.

Speak softly and wear a loud shirt.

Goals are deceptive: the unaimed arrow never misses.

He who dies with the most toys still dies.

Age is relative — When you're over the hill you pick up speed.

There are two ways to be rich: make more or desire less.

Beauty is internal: looks mean nothing.

No rain, no rainbows.

And now I lay me down to sleep. And I'm happy to be 60.