Not just an ordinary Tuesday!

Thirty-four years ago at exactly 8:58 a.m., on July 8, the world shifted to make room for a very special soul. Until that moment, whether this newborn would be male or female was a secret the doctors and nurses kept to themselves. "Don't tell me", I reminded them each time we met over nine months. I wanted to be surprised. Names were pending until the time when either Sarah or Thomas aka "Sarah/Thom" would make an appearance. Either way, the baby would carry on the grandparent's names, and either way, he/she would be very warmly welcomed.

Sarah Eugenia (both grandmother's names) arrived as barely a six-pounder, with the longest fingers I had seen on any baby's tiny hand. "She'll be a pianist", I said. In fact, as I write today, her five-foot baby-grand piano sits in my living room. On her sixteenth Christmas, I wrapped a small piano ornament in paper and placed it in the bottom of the biggest box I could find. After she dug her way to the bottom, her blueberry eyes were intent on the black and whites before turning them on me: "Wait! . . . Are we getting a piano"? Within a week it arrived like a harp on wheels. When the time came for college, I began piano-sitting. It has been a gift I gave to myself! Just like Sarah has been these past three decades. She has touched more than my life. Sarah has touched my soul with her heart of gold.

Nobody I know is more "true blue" in her relationships. At her high school graduation party in the backyard, where all eighteen birthdays had been celebrated, I said:"If you are here today, you are blessed to be one of Sarah's friends. She will never let you down". True enough. This has been the hallmark of her life. This soon-to-be certified art therapist, has also taken her share of bitter disappointments. Yet, she has not given into the worst inclinations to give up. Instead, she has reached deep down like for something buried at the bottom of a treasure box for yet another gift. Herself. She is true to herself, as well. Seems she came with that built-in feature. It has served her well. So, I think, has our family motto.

One day, her Sunday School teacher asked: "What's your family motto"? The silence must have been deafening amongst the eight-year-olds. "Go home and ask your parents and come back next week to tell us". I remember vividly standing at the kitchen sink looking out over the garden when Sarah sprung the question. My mind might have been blank, but instead it scrambled through catchy phrases as if one was waiting to be plucked like an apple from a plethora of trees in an orchard. "Let me think about it", I said. Think about it, I did! It kind of got under my skin like some itch I couldn't quite reach. But, I knew I had to find an answer for her by Sunday. It mattered. There was a weightiness to claiming a motto as one's own. Something to live up to; to live by; to aspire to; to rely on in times of trouble. And, so it came to me out of the true blue above while driving to church the following Sunday.

"Our family motto is: Rise Above It", I proclaimed. There was power in those three words. It fit every occasion that would befall the three of us as we grew older together.

I had it inscribed in her high school ring. Rise Above It . . .Try it on for size and see how it fits!

Happy Birthday, Sarah! See you in Q.C.!