Another Candle

It's hard not to be a little ambivalent about birthdays when you've already celebrated six decades worth of them. While I certainly want them to keep on coming, I can't help feeling a twinge of anxiety every time one of them rolls around. Since I'm prone to introspection (bet you figured that out already) I tend to use the arrival of another birthday to inspect, analyze, and critique my behavior over the last three hundred sixty-five days. Not always a pretty sight but hey, somebody's got to do it.

Did I learn anything new? (Princess Charlotte's nanny's name unfortunately doesn't count). Did I advance my spiritual growth? (Watching five minutes of Joel Osteen's Sunday service also does not make the cut). Did I love more? (This year? Undoubtedly. I have that new grand-baby, remember?) Was I kinder? (That crazy woman in the library yesterday probably doesn't think so). More thoughtful? (I try on this one but it's pretty tough when thoughts stay in my consciousness for under thirty seconds.) Less petty? (Again, sorry crazy library lady). More joyful? (Other than the time I spend with my grandson who makes it pretty darn hard to be anything but). Did I sweat the small stuff less? (Does not getting upset at my hubby's picking up the wrong peanut butter count?) Did I value the important stuff more? (It's getting a little late if I haven't). Did I finally finish editing that damn book that I keep talking about? (What do you think?)

All I know is that another June 24th has presented itself and I'm doing the best I can. (Wait. That's a lie. I could exercise more and it wouldn't hurt to stop eating those dark chocolate sea-salt caramels every night. Damn you, Costco).  I do try to spend as much time as possible with the wonderful family and amazing friends that God has blessed me with (I sure hope that means another trip to Mexico this winter with the best friends anyone could ask for) and try to spend as little time as possible with toxic, negative people who's goal in life is to sap all the joy out of anyone within a five-mile radius (that's you, library lady).

It feels odd to be eligible for Social Security and AARP discounts. That's for old people and I have a hard time thinking of myself that way (unless I'm trying to get my creaky knees and plantar fascitis inflicted feet out of bed in the morning). But every time I feel sorry for myself or wish I didn't have to go through the decidedly negative aspects of getting older, I think of my friend Karyn who was stricken with Stage 4 cancer and died at fifty-four. I know she would have given anything to be here with her kids and grandkids; birthdays, achy joints and all.

She would feel lucky and blessed. And so do I.

LX and Counting

Well, it's been an eventful week. I celebrated a milestone birthday and The Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup. I have to say that the Hawks winning The Cup on my actual birthday made the transition to a new decade a lot more tolerable but still, when the high-fiveing and jumping up and down were over, I had to face my new reality. I was now in serious AARP country; a place where Scooter Store flyers and hearing aid offers would be regular visitors to my mailbox. (My husband actually asked me the next morning, "How's my little senior doing today?" It's amazing the man is still taking in oxygen after that one.)

Don't get me wrong, I know there are a lot of people in this world who didn't get to reach the birthday I just celebrated, including a very dear friend that I miss terribly. She would have given anything to be standing in my Clark shoes so I should shut up and appreciate the gift of every day. And I do. Honestly, I do. But there's something about hitting those zero birthdays that sobers you up in a hurry - Blackhawks win or no Blackhawks win.

So, here's my plan. I'm getting off my saggy heinie and getting myself in shape. I'm looking very carefully at food labels (hello, Whole Foods) and trying to cook fresh, healthy meals as often as possible (goodbye, McDonalds). I'm not going to go through another day putting off what I know I need (edit that book) to do and want (a 2015 return to Italy?) to do. I want to learn more; help more; grow more (except in that aforementioned heinie area which has grown quite enough, thank you very much). In short, I want to use whatever time I have left on this planet to be as productive, supportive, generous and kind as I possibly can.

And if, along the way, a book with my name on it ends up finding its way to a shelf at your nearest bookstore, I don't think I'll be too worried about that next zero birthday.