Soon the blur of seconds, minutes, hours, days and weeks will deliver my fiftieth birthday to me in a cyclonic swirlwind. I’ve been contemplating this arrival for some time now ... and now that it is almost upon me, I have achieved some clarity around it.
I have always believed that birthdays are special and deserve to be celebrated. Birthdays are markers of the wonderment of life that we are privileged to call our own. Each represents another year of precious life lived ... another year in which I have tasted the sweetness of possibility and abundance and experienced the depths and heights of emotion that are the byproduct of a rich life. I have been truly blessed.
However one birthday is no more important than another – last year’s is as special as this year’s – and as the one after that. Each is a milestone in its own right. And this weekend, surrounded and nurtured by friends and a sister who I love so dearly, I counted my blessings – my treasures that make up the charmed life that is mine.
I can’t wait to turn fifty and claim that marker that means I may be close to the halfway point ... if I am really lucky! And if I never celebrate another birthday, well, I have had and lived the very best life imaginable.
So in a few hours the clock rolls ahead an hour - and fifty lunges that much closer!
PS - rolling ahead -- rolling back -- can't keep it straight. I just know that we instantly lose an hour! Isn't confusion a sign of aging??