"It is with sadness that we will have to decline the birthday party invitation for your son," one mother wrote me, "as such short notice was given." I felt like I had been punched in the gut. Again. You see, my son Casey has autism, and I had been busily planning all the arrangements for his seventh birthday party for weeks. I wanted to tell her, in earnest, that I had tried, I really tried, to get it right this time.
It seems like the New Year and its associated resolutions are ruled by my head -- all the things I know I should be doing, whether they're external or internal changes. But my birthday is ruled by my heart -- I feel my way through it -- a whole year's worth of gratitude, support, optimism, love and friendship.
My family is, indeed, taking me out to my favourite restaurant. I will enjoy myself and eat/drink moderately. But I am also working out at least five days a week. And tomorrow I'll carve out extra time, enough to run 10K, just for insurance. I am 53 years old and I weigh 231.6 pounds. I never want to weigh more than that ever again.