It's a Saturday night and I ain't got nobody...

I never wanted to be a fireman. Never wanted to be a policeman. Not a doctor. As a matter of fact, I really can't remember what my career aspirations were as a small child. But I know what I didn't think I would be. I did not think I would be alone. I did not think that I would be sitting in a hotel room alone the eve before my 50th birthday. I did not think that I would spend my 50th birthdays without my wife in my arms or my child sitting across from my birthday cake with possibly a husband and child of her own. 

Today I found myself in the company of some pretty incredible people and yet I was alone. During dinner my feeling of loneliness for the day seemed to reach its peak and I had to slip quietly out and step outside the restaurant so that my body could join my soul in a moment of solitude. Each time I thought I would gather myself and rejoin my friends another wave of loneliness struck. Fortunately a small child came to my rescue with a sweet hug. It got me through dinner and my cup didn't run out until I returned to my hotel room. Alone. The words to an old song I heard this afternoon came flooding back to me. "It's a Saturday night and I ain't got nobody..."

Tomorrow morning I will awaken another day closer to my great reunion. I will again spend the day with some good friends that will serve as a good distraction. I will begin my journey on the second half-century of my life. I will again return home to an empty house and climb in bed alone in hopes of visiting my family in my dreams. But I will also do something else. I will also take another step forward. I will be a friend to someone who needs a friend. I will smile at someone who needs a smile. I will serve someone in some capacity that is in need. And I will continue to heal even if that healing means excising a little infection now and then. 

This Sunday and the next Sunday will be two of the last firsts I have to face as the first year is approaching an end. Mother's Day will probably be just as difficult as a birthday. But I refuse to let it get me down. I don't know what it's like to be a mother but I have to believe that being with your children on Mother's Day is probably the best way to spend that day and, for the first time in 8 years my wife will get to spend Mother's Day with her daughter. And I will rejoice in that for her. 

So, if you are a close friend and you want to know what to get me for my birthday, send me a picture of you with your family enjoying the day. Allow me to live vicariously through you. No matter how hard you try you cannot give me what I truly want for this birthday, but if I can make you see the beauty in your family and make you hold them a little closer then that alone will be cause for celebration. And it will give me hope for the next half century.