Before the Birthday That Never Came

My father-in-law would have turned 80 next month.

He missed his birthday bash by one month and a week.

He lived his life well. He loved his family deeply…his children, his grandchildren, and me. Never once did I feel that his affection for me was any less than what he had for his own daughter. That kind of love is rare.

Some years ago, we were attending a wedding in an area where one of his old friends lived. He suddenly remembered him and said he would love to meet him. But there were time constraints. We had to return. The meeting didn’t happen.

Life moved on.

Today, in his absence, we  his children are planning his 80th birthday on his month’s mind day. Just the way he would have liked it. We are calling cousins, relatives, people close to him… and yes, even that friend he once wished to meet but couldn’t. We didn’t have his number, so we reached out to relatives, searched, connected, tried our best.

And in doing all this, something shifted inside me.

From our 20s to our 60s, most of our peak years are spent earning. Building. Running. Managing. Weekends come and go in a blink. Of course, we don’t always have a choice. Responsibilities are real.

But maybe the lesson is this … do not allow work to occupy the maximum space of your heart, mind, and soul.

As children, we sat in the strictest teacher’s class and still knew how to not carry stress home. In class even while being punished, we thought about what was in our tiffin, we smiled remembering a joke a friend cracked. We would reach home with an excited heart and planned our evening games.

If it were today, we would have written notes in planners, analysed every word, overthought it on the way home, skipped playtime, and then edited the planner again.

We were emotionally smarter as children.

I sometimes wish Daddy had met that friend when he was healthy and independent. Taken more spontaneous trips to Mangalore without worrying about logistics. Done a little more of what his heart gently suggested.

But then I realise … we still can.

Life is beautiful only till the time it is painless.

This healthy phase …it is temporary for all of us. We don’t realise its value because it feels normal. But being able to walk without pain, taste our favourite dish, digest food well, breathe freely, sleep without discomfort … these are luxuries. Many people struggle with the smallest acts of daily living.

I am not going to give textbook advice — “travel more,” “learn a new skill,” “take that vacation.” Those are good to read, not always easy to live.

Each of us experience joy differently.

At a beach sunset, one person loves the feel of soft, cool sand. Another feels irritated when sand slips into their footwear. One watches people. Another seeks silence. Neither is wrong.

Similarly, each of us has our own version of a fulfilled life.

But don’t postpone your version.

As for me..To begin with, I need to start reading the books I bought at a flea market in Goa years ago... still lying untouched on my shelf. I need to call and meet my school best friend who stays in a different city, whom I’ve been avoiding because I’m upset...While the introvert that she is, probably doesn’t even know why I went silent.

If not now, when?

A few years from now, we may be dependent on others to complete the simplest of things. Why wait for that phase to start living intentionally?

We are planning his birthday without him. That reality hurts. But it also teaches.

Meet the friend.
Make the call.
Take the trip.
Open the book.
Heal the silence.
Do it while you can do it yourself.

Because one day, someone may be planning your milestone in your absence ... wishing you had done a little more of what made you quietly happy.

And maybe the greatest tribute we can give those who are no longer with us…

…is to not postpone our own living.

❤️ Sharon.

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