Firstly, thank you to you all for wishing me a happy birthday.
It was incredibly thoughtful, and halfway around the world I felt your kindness and love. So again, my thanks.
A strange thing happened when I woke on the morning I turned sixty. For a moment, just at that transition stage between sleep and wakefulness, I was in the hospital room where I was born, in Wimbledon London.
I looked on at my mother and father – they were so young – and they were so full of love for the baby they'd brought into the world.
It was a very strange sensation, being a witness to this, my birth. Seeing the impact it had on my parents.
And it occurred to me that I should in future turn birthdays around so that it's not a celebration of me, but a celebration of my mother and father – for all that they did to nurture me through childhood and adolescence – for all the sacrifices they made to enable me to be what I am today.
I don't think I'll look at birthdays the same way from now on, after that strange vision just at that moment before the world clutched me from sleep.
PGS the Way 
Bill,
What an interesting dream!! And what a great take-away – to make one’s birthday a celebration of one’s parents!
Quite some time ago, I decided to send flowers to my mom on my birthday. This idea came from an article I’d read in a nationally syndicated column. When my mom got the flowers, she called and said someone had sent flowers to me at her address. When I explained, she didn’t quite understand – many of us are products of long-time habits, and I maybe didn’t elaborate enough in the message with the flowers . As she had time to think about it, though, she was very pleased and delighted!
Terry
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