I finally turned 48 years old today. I say that with pride because 2 years ago someone asked me how old I was and I told them 48. It wasn’t until several hours later (when I counted using my toes and fingers) that I realized I’d added a couple of years to my age. I couldn’t go back and tell them I gave the wrong number, so they may think I’m 50 now! But I don’t mind; it’s only a number.
The first one to wish me happy birthday was my Mom. She calls every year and sings happy birthday. It wouldn’t be a happy birthday without it. Thanks, Mom.
But it hasn’t been the happiest of birthdays because I’ve spent too much time pondering. Do you ever do that? That's not always a good thing. It's made me into an emotional wreck--teary eyed and weepy (thank goodness for the free Clinique masquera that I found in my purse).
I've spent too much time thinking about past birthdays and gifts, like:
the ceramic rabbit made by my Dad who was in Shemya, Alaska, and sent to me in a brown paper wrapped package for my 10th birthday
the year I turned an emotional 13 and my siblings sang "you look like a monkey and you smell like one too" which sent me running from the house in tears
the roses gathered by my Aunt Ernestine from her rose garden and given to me for my 19th birthday
the birthday cards sent to me year after year by Maw Maw and Paw Paw and signed with a very shaky hand telling me how much they love me
the awful year I turned 20, away from home in New Orleans, and Dave constantly reminding me that I was no longer a teenager
the LAST time I was 30 (when Matt asked how old I was and when I told him 30, he said I couldn’t be because I was 30 last year)
the tiny snow globe given to me by my best friend, Cynthia, that proclaims that I’m the “Queen of Everything” (yeah, you might think it's nice, but I think it’s a not-so-nice jab at my bossiness--but she knows me by heart)
the year I turned 40 and wanted to use it as an execuse to have a big shrimp and crawfish boil, but instead of being a pleasant 85 degrees outside, it turned 65 degrees and we all had to cram into Mom and Dad's tiny little house to get warm--but I mostly remember the sweet friends staying and laughing around the dining room table
the daylillies gathered many times by my precious friend Pat from her garden and left in a vase on my desk wishing me a happy birthday (this year it was a picture of the daylillies in her garden sent from her iPhone--technology is wonderful)
Thinking and pondering over sweet memories and how utterly blessed I am.
But I was truly overwhelmed when I signed onto Facebook and found so many well wishes from family and friends. All I could do was cry. So, instead of seeing a self-portrait of me all red-eyed, red-nosed and looking like I’m 70 (and yes, I do look like I'm 70 when I have no make-up on), I’m sharing a picture of my sweet husband who picked up a red velvet cake and candles. Thanks to my family and friends for making my day extra special. I love each of you.