Birthdays
I had a birthday last week. Let’s just say I’m halfway between forty and fifty now. Wow… now that I said that, even I think I’m old!
I love birthdays, but I realized this year that I no longer look forward to them like I used to. I remember Aprils in my youth thinking, “Oh! Only six more months till my birthday!” Then in later years, I matured to the declaration of all of October as My Birthday Month, and secretly expected everyone to treat me special all month as a result. I drove my husband Scott crazy with the claim that he had to do this-that-or-the-other because it was my birthday month. Scott is probably relieved that I’ve lost the birthday enthusiasm. It certainly takes the pressure off him!
I don’t know why I’ve lost the birthday fervor. Maybe because I realize that each birthday means I’m another year older (duh!)—something that is only cool during the first twenty years of life. I honestly don’t know where the years have gone. Strangely, I’ve gotten older, but my friends have stayed young. Some of my dearest friends right now are still twenty-somethings. I’m old enough to be their mother (though I’d prefer to think of it as old enough to be their cool aunt, as my nephew Daniel calls me—bless his precious heart).
Yes, this is the year I had to get bifocals. The year I had to make twice-weekly visits to the chiropractor because of my aching neck and back. The year I spent $106 on a special pillow to ease my aching neck (which didn’t work, by the way—but did contribute to an aching wallet!). The year I accepted the fact that my thumb is always going to hurt, despite surgery, cortisone, and drugs. The year that I realized that I am twenty years older, but absolutely no wiser, than my young friends. The year my two-year-old Kira declared me to be “squishy all over.”
But the day after my birthday I realized something else: I can make the coming year better than ever. I can choose to live life, rather than let it slip by unnoticed and underappreciated. I can do things that matter – to my family, to others, to God, and to myself. Don’t ask me today what all of those things are – but know that I have begun my list of THINGS I WANT TO DO. This blog is just a beginning.
It’s gonna be a great year.
Thanks for dropping by. We’ll chat again soon. Until then I wish you peace.
I love birthdays, but I realized this year that I no longer look forward to them like I used to. I remember Aprils in my youth thinking, “Oh! Only six more months till my birthday!” Then in later years, I matured to the declaration of all of October as My Birthday Month, and secretly expected everyone to treat me special all month as a result. I drove my husband Scott crazy with the claim that he had to do this-that-or-the-other because it was my birthday month. Scott is probably relieved that I’ve lost the birthday enthusiasm. It certainly takes the pressure off him!
I don’t know why I’ve lost the birthday fervor. Maybe because I realize that each birthday means I’m another year older (duh!)—something that is only cool during the first twenty years of life. I honestly don’t know where the years have gone. Strangely, I’ve gotten older, but my friends have stayed young. Some of my dearest friends right now are still twenty-somethings. I’m old enough to be their mother (though I’d prefer to think of it as old enough to be their cool aunt, as my nephew Daniel calls me—bless his precious heart).
Yes, this is the year I had to get bifocals. The year I had to make twice-weekly visits to the chiropractor because of my aching neck and back. The year I spent $106 on a special pillow to ease my aching neck (which didn’t work, by the way—but did contribute to an aching wallet!). The year I accepted the fact that my thumb is always going to hurt, despite surgery, cortisone, and drugs. The year that I realized that I am twenty years older, but absolutely no wiser, than my young friends. The year my two-year-old Kira declared me to be “squishy all over.”
But the day after my birthday I realized something else: I can make the coming year better than ever. I can choose to live life, rather than let it slip by unnoticed and underappreciated. I can do things that matter – to my family, to others, to God, and to myself. Don’t ask me today what all of those things are – but know that I have begun my list of THINGS I WANT TO DO. This blog is just a beginning.
It’s gonna be a great year.
Thanks for dropping by. We’ll chat again soon. Until then I wish you peace.
posted by The Quiet Garden at 2:02 PM
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