I'm reading a new (actually, old) Anne Lamott book.  Gads, I love her writing!  Every word, like angel food cake:  not too sweet, feels like a hot day with a cool breeze, you don't want to stop eating it.  
Okay, so metaphors not always my strong point. 
But, she writes and I relate. 

I'm reading Blue Shoe and, while the entire story is fantastic, one paragraph jumped out at me last night.  The little six year old boy, Harry, who has a baby sister named Ella,  is talking with his mom in the kitchen,

"So, will Lee die at the same time as me and Ella?  Or just you?"

"What?"

"Won't you and I die at the exact same time?" he asked in rising panic.

His mom placed food on the table.  "No, honey.  Where did you hear that?"

"From Stefan.  He and his mom are dying at the exact same second."

"No, they're not, darling.  And besides, I'm thirty years older than you.  So you and Ella-- and Stefan -- will probably live much longer."

Harry gaped at her.  He pushed his eggs away.  Then he covered his face with his hands and began to sob, which got Ella started too.  "If I had known that,"  he cried, running back to the window, "I would never have agreed to be born."

I know exactly what Harry means.  I feel the same way.

It's my Pop's birthday today and he's got everything one could possibly want.  But, if I could give him one thing it would be a "live forever" card with a  "+1"  for mom. 
Happy Birthday Dad.