Birthday Wishes, the Universe, & Bad-Friend Guilt

One of my dearest friends' birthday is tomorrow.  I have had all kinds of fabulous ideas of what I would like to get her.  She likes Edgar Allan Poe, and she loves Lisa Snelling's gorgeous artwork, so THIS seemed perfect.  But when the time came to be able to order it, the money was nowhere to be found.  There were bills that demanded attention, and a leaky roof that is still weighing on my mind, and empty cupboards that needed filling...  I contemplated a dozen other gifts, all so very perfect, and all so very out of reach at the moment.  I felt very much like a failure as a friend.

I went out this weekend, after scrounging what bit of money could be spared, and got her a few gifts...none of which feel "worthy."  I lament all that I so desperately wish I could give her--she who has been the best of friend to me and has steadied me so many times, especially over the past year.

Now, I realize that gifts are not a measure of friendship.  I do.  But that does not make me feel any better right now.  I feel this way when it comes to giving gift to anyone I care about.  I feel totally inadequate.  I just do...I will psycho-analyze it later.

But, for now, I weave together these words--also so very unworthy--but at least they are a testament to all I wish I could do; and I offer them to the Universe...

...in the hopes that in some way, at some point, it will give to her all that I cannot...and that her true worth will be showered upon her in great abundance.

Happy Birthday, my dear friend.