Yesterday was my 39th birthday.

I worked a busy 10 hour shift, then returned home where Brutus, the mighty dachshund, greeted me ecstatically, wiggling and licking. Sebastian, the brown hound, barked and barked to tell me about his day, and Mick, the gentle giant, followed us around, wagging his huge, graceful tail.

Finally, I made my way to the bedroom to kiss my wife hello. She surprised me with a gaggle of gifts including my favorite scented oil (Woody Sandalwood) and vanilla lotion from The Body Shop, a couple of Sudoku scratch tickets, my favorite dark chocolate and a lovely card, all in a beautiful, beaded, lavender silk clutch. My wife offers me her gentle, loving heart each day.

This past weekend my parents drove hundreds of miles to spend time with Heidi and me for my pre-birthday weekend, and to see their few-week-old first granddaughter. They treated us to dinner and breakfast during their time here. My father got up early on Sunday to join us for watching giant balloons inflate in the park, though weather prevented their launch. And after all I've been and done their gaze envelops me in love.

Sometimes I feel like the Grinch, Oscar the Grouch, Squidword, Eeyore, one or another of the cynical, complaining, cartoon-characters. People tilt their heads and laugh, as if I'm attempting to amuse. Others walk away, finally tired of my catastrophising tendencies. Still, I have family and chosen family who never leave me lonely.

Thank you all for the life you remind me I should truly live.