What Matters Most

Yesterday I had a major birthday, and such milestones are occasions for considering “the meaning of it all” (a question that my husband insists on answering with “42”–a response no one understands unless they’ve read “Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.”)

My children surprised me with a party (shocked me, actually), and as I was hugging good friends and relatives, I was forcibly reminded that, in the end, what matters most is those human connections. Not to be maudlin, but it’s love that makes our lives worthwhile.

Yesterday, messages from my Facebook friends and from family and friends at the surprise party reminded me once again that no matter how screwed up the world is, if we’re lucky, we each have the opportunity to create an island of sorts–a place that may not be found on any map, but that is nevertheless a haven and a retreat, a place where we can enjoy the company of the people who are important to us.

I’ve been very lucky, and I’m so grateful for my family and friends. I’ll undoubtedly keep bitching about dumb policies and inadequate/hateful/corrupt public servants and all the other things I complain about on this blog, but I really do recognize how incredibly fortunate I am when it comes to the things that matter most.

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