I was wakened this morning by a pre-dawn phone call from my 40-year-old daughter who was giggling like a moonstruck teenager. She was all animated about being the first to wish me a happy birthday. My kids have had this lifelong competition to be the first to tell me happy birthday. Who knows why? Things went along swimmingly until my son went overseas and started calling me about 12:01am and the girls started crying "foul." Now that he's back in the States the tradition has apparently been revived. It's been an interesting 67 years for me. I think the first years, although terribly cruel and painful, taught me some lessons about the type of person I wanted to become. Those decisions have ultimately lead to a better life even though there were some really rough patches along the way. Although I never had a lot of money, I think I've been very blessed with good health, beautiful children, good friends - the things that really matter. Life keeps moving forward ... I hope the rest of my years will remain much better than the first part of my years.