Today is my 56th birthday! I wish I had taken the day off. If I had I would hang out with my dogs for awhile. Then I would take myself and a newspaper to breakfast (probably IHOP, god help me I love the pancakes), then some leisurely shopping (definitely include a bookstore), then home for nap ... sigh... no sense torturing myself as I have just a few minutes left before I become officially potentially late to work.
Age is just a number. And if that's true, I am many different ages. I was born in 1953, so that makes me a conventional 56, same as Paul. But my brain age this morning is 45. Not the best result I've gotten from my Brain Age game, but I'll take it. In my mind, I think and feel I am around 37. When I look in the mirror, well that varies too. Today I am gonna be kind and say my mirror age is 49. Then we also have that nonsense about 50 being the new 40, or was it 20?
I don't fear aging. It beats the alternative, as we always say, right? Both Paul and I have had to consider the alternative because of health reasons. Frightening for us and for those we love. But it also has been a gift. Contemplating your own death gives you a renewed perspective about life. That is so true. Don't get me wrong, Paul and I have have made a pact to live 100 years. My point is, when you get blind-sided by mortality, it can produce wonderful results. This past week, Paul's new perspective produced a beautiful red car that he so deserved. My own brush with mortality in 2000 gave me the extra push I needed to go back to school and get a master's degree. Hmmm. Should I have gone for the red car? Absolutely not. I love my work, most days.
I love birthdays, mine especially. I woke this morning feeling different, I guess special. This morning I have heard from all my children and a couple of friends. Tonight I am having dinner with my daughter and granddaughter. A few days ago my parents called early to sing me happy birthday from Montana, an annual tradition.
It's good to be 56, 45, 37, 40 and 20!
Mary
1 comment:
I love it
Post a Comment