Today is my 55th birthday.
While I'm blessed beyond measure... I just can't imagine where the time went. In my mind, I'm still my ideal age of 35. And I still feel familiar surprise when my body can't follow the plans of my imagination and will.
I love my life, though. Wonderfully happy marriage. Healthy, hard-working, loving children. An adorable granddaughter. Joyful, caring church filled with good people and loving, interesting pastors.
I have meaningful work and many passions. We're finally rebuilding our financial security after Ron's unemployment bouts a few years ago. And I've never exercised more or eaten healthier.
I just wish I had 40 or 50 years more to go.
But here's the curiousity. When I presumed I had decades ahead of me, it didn't feel as precious to me. And frankly, I didn't make as good a use of time as I today.
I'm conscious, now, that time is a limited commodity, and I'm doing many of my "someday" things.
And I work harder to make a difference in this world... not to be remembered, but to be kinder and more forgiving. And to use my writing to help make this world a more merciful and just place.
But not today... :) The world can wait.
Ron took my birthday off from work. After he took Andrea to school, he came home with a fragrant cup of my favorite coffee, a forbidden donut ( I adore donuts... never eat them anymore), and a fresh-off-the-stands newspaper for this news junkie. And he's taking me to lunch today.
Happy birthday to me. I'm 55 years old
Maybe if I say and write it enough, I'll believe it. And not cringe.
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