Not totally in vain

A year ago, the day I turned 62, we were in North Carolina, visiting some Delmar expatriates (they have since moved back) and enjoying the full flush of a mid-Atlantic spring.

62 sounded kind of old to me then - old enough to get Social Security if I wanted, old enough so that the occasional movie discounts started to turn into a flood of money-saving offers.

I'm glad I didn't realize at the time that I was less than 6 weeks from my cancer diagnosis, although I suppose that means we could have started fighting it earlier. But it sure would have screwed up even more last spring.

63 now sounds terribly youthful for someone with this affliction, and sounds like someone who should have a long slow glide into old age. We'll see.

Meanwhile, I already got the best birthday card anyone should ever get. It shows a little girl bending down on a sidewalk. She is saying that she used to think that having good luck was finding a dime on the sidewalk or a four-leaf clover.

Then you open the card and she says, "Now I realize it was having you as a Dad.''

All of these years haven't been totally in vain.