For most people, birthdays are known as happy days of celebration which commemorate a particular time in history when some woman went through what I have heard as "great pain" to bring another being into this world; with pain forgotten a yearly celebration of happiness begins. This May 10th was my birthday and one that landed on Mother's Day as it had when I was born; for me it is an event which occurs in a rotation of about every seven years.

As much as I would have loved for my birthday to have been one of festive celebration, it was a day that made the throes of death a more desirable choice. Being a male, I have no idea of what labor pains are like, but I do know that an excruciating painful event less than twenty-four hours long would have been far more desirable than what happened yesterday. Suffice it to say that it began with what was equivalent to being run down by a high speed freight train then followed by what seemed like slowly being processed by a meat grinder. I was in so much agony that it was barely possible to think.; beyond this series of brief words, elaboration is meaningless.

Like a rainbow after a storm, this day after my birthday came shining into my life as a gift directly from heaven, as my eyes began to open to the realization of the reason I was allowed to return to my beautiful home here in the arctic. Eleven years in Korea where I found a family who love me deeply and with great sincerity, I emerge into my arctic reality like a being caught and preserved in permafrost awakened years later after a mysterious stint of unusually warm weather melted my chrysalis so my wings can unfurl.

The love of my wife reflects the Love of God as East and West meet and dance under a Sun that shines on every part of earth at the same moment. How blessed I am as I daily meet people who have waited years and some for a life time to make it to our little place where the permafrost supports our parcel of land among the black spruce covered forest; our world appears like a strange land of spindly pipe cleaners growing next to a slow meandering tundra born river.

It seems that the people who have suffered long enough with an infection that money, wealth and prestige can't cure have come face to face with a dragon from the East with the same infection; however, the dragon has an appetite for their blood and they lack the strength to fight back. I don't know how it happened, but it seems that I have the same blood type as the dragon, making me a rather nasty tasting morsel to consider. I'm can't say that being an "acquired taste" is fun but I am grateful that my "real" family rides this rather cheerful fire breather.

Well the sun sets further and further into the mist of the great northern sky rather than in the west as it does for the rest of the world. The nights are gone and only a momentary dusky-dawn remains and this will soon vanish into eternal day. It is the time of year when rest is really tough to find; after all when the sun shines all the time it simply means people should be busy with healthy activities as much as they can stay awake for. Later on winter will come when the sun will rise in the south for an hour and only those who were busy capturing memories of every cheerful moment under the midnight sun will survive. Winters unending night will be time to ski on snowy trails beneath the glowing aurora and then to dream of summers eternal fields of arctic cotton growing under the endless days.

So ends this short story the day after my birthday. Out of unimaginable pain like the heat of a fire well spent, comes the chance to see the light of a late day in the arctic remain shining in the sky offering a promise of hope for tomorrow and the eternity just beyond.