Two days ago was the fourth anniversary of my heart surgery. I celebrated the event better last year, having just completed an Ironman triathlon. Finishing that race was solid statement of health and vitality, a reminder of the drastic way illness changed my life for the better; certainly if I had never gotten sick, I would have never placed a premium on movement and forward motion. Somethings you don’t miss until they’re gone, I think.
This year I was a little less symbolic in my celebration, which is to say I completely forgot it was my heart-aversary. So instead of completing an athletic race (which is what I would usually do), or even working out at all, I stayed in the house, snuggled on the couch with the Boss (while we mainlined the fourth season of Battlestar Galactica. I love TV seasons on DVD, btw), played with my puppy in the snow** (20 inches!), and had some friends over for dinner. I didn’t realize I was celebrating at the time, but when I think back to a lovely day spent with my family, and a lovely evening spent sitting around the table with our friends, enjoying the home the Boss and I have built for ourselves*, I realize I’ve come to a new way of celebrating health and being alive, which is to just… be that way. And I love it.
*We didn’t like, literally build it. Obviously.
**Obligatory puppy-in-snow picture:
InnerTeub 
I remember everyone talking about that bad-ass Elizabeth that just had heart surgery four years ago. Now it is a pleasure to know that bad-ass Lizard.
PS – I am sure it was purely oversight to not mention your day was a tiny big incomplete b/c your secular goddaughter and her parents couldn’t be there for dinner.
I was trying to overlook the hurt and disappointment 🙂