Happy Birthday to me

“Every year on your birthday, you get a chance to start new.” – Sammy Hagar  

 

I just ate the last tomato sandwich of the season. There’s a crispness in the air and the leaves are starting to turn. Fall is definitely here and it’ll be Christmas before we know it. Where does the time go? How quickly it flies…

 

I will celebrate my 57^th birthday this weekend with a family trip to a pet-friendly state park cabin and I can think of no better gift. I do hope there won’t be a cake with a number so close to 60 on it, though. After all, I still pretty much feel the way I’ve always felt and I’d rather not have to blow out so many candles to get my birthday wish.

 

Age is a funny thing in that it constantly shifts. When I was a child, teenagers seemed old. When I was a teenager, someone in their 30’s was ancient. Once I hit 30, 45 was the next scary sounding number. Then, I ended up in my 40’s beginning to understand why people older than me always say “Time flies!” so emphatically. I’m not sure when I became the woman I now see in the mirror and how did those little children I remember so clearly end up in their mid-30’s?

 

I don’t have a lot of clear memories about my childhood – vivid glimpses of moments, but mostly just a happy blur. My teenage years were a struggle. I was an overweight overachiever with plenty of guy friends, but I never went on a single date.

 

During the second year of college my parents’ marriage fell apart and I ended up moving to Santa Cruz, CA with my mother. She’d always wanted to live at the beach and since Mr. Clark was the only person we knew along the whole West Coastline, we landed there. (At the time, Mr. Clark was a just friend and we were not romantically inclined…)

 

My mom crash landed pretty quickly, physically and emotionally. She died a short while later at the age of 38; I was 19 at the time. Her death sent me into a tail spin that kept me swirling in a frantic whirlwind of activity for the next 20 years because somehow, in my mind, my mom’s death at 38 meant I would die at that age, too. I’ve since read this is a common reaction among young women who lose their mothers, especially to a sudden death. But, knowing I was not alone did not ease my need to “get everything done” by the age of 38.  

 

I married (Mr. Clark) at 21 and had two kids right away. I threw myself into motherhood with great fervor. I spent lots of time with my children and made them the center of my life. We traveled a lot and had grand adventures because every moment was precious and every year brought me closer to my last. I was sure that by the time they were teenagers, I would only be a memory and I wanted to be a good one.

 

Then, my 39^th birthday came and I was able to breathe a huge sigh of relief. The curse had lifted! Now I could slow down…But, my 40’s were a very busy time. I worked fulltime and both kids were busy teenagers, involved in a lot of activities. The college years seemed to fly by and before I knew it, I was in my late 40’s and we had two weddings to plan…Still so much to do, still feeling the need to borrow more time.      

 

I took my 90-year-old grandmother to a family wedding in Mexico when I was 45. She was still spry and adventurous, so we had a good time. On the long bus ride back, it hit me – my life really may be only half over. What a revelation! And, another moment to pause and sigh with relief.  

 

My 50’s have been much quieter than the rest of my life. I’ve been blessed with good health, enough wealth and no disasters. The kids are living solid lives, married to people they love. And, while there are no grandchildren yet, I’m confident there will be. It’s been easier to slow down, and simply live and enjoy the passing of time…

 

On the anniversary of my mother’s death this year, I said a prayer and lit a candle and took some time to think about her. It’s been 37 years since she died; I’m almost 20 years older than she was when her life ended so abruptly. And, while her story has been frozen, mine has gone on and on, in ways that have been precious and special. I’ve been blessed with a gift my mother never had – years of rich living. It occurs to me now that the best way to honor her memory is to savor and enjoy that. ..

 

A Roman playwright named Plautus said, “Let us celebrate the occasion with wine and sweet words.” I don’t know what occasion he was celebrating, but barring the unforeseen, the occasion of my 57^th birthday will be celebrated with wine and sweet words and I am so very thankful for that.