Today is my birthday. I’m 44. I don’t feel 44. I don’t feel any particular age at all. I suppose I’ve reached the part of life they call Middle Age. Half the people I know think I’m still pretty young but the other half think I’m pretty old so Middle Age probably describes the situation pretty well.
I had a good day. I took the day off. I played Words with Friends while drinking my morning coffee. I wrote and read. I went for a run. I spent time just hanging out with my wife. We picked the kiddo up from school and got ice cream. We ran a few errands. I practiced piano. I walked the dog. We had dinner with my mom and dad and grandmother.
At 44, I don’t need a lot to make me happy. I don’t need gifts or parties or crazy midlife adventures. Each passing year, just being here still is a source of joy. I think that might be the secret of aging well.
I do enjoy the messages. Birthday greetings arrive by Facebook, text and email all through the day. I am grateful. I have a good life that I enjoy. Thanks for being part of this good life with me.
Yesterday was my 38th birthday. I had a very nice day. We picked up my daughter early from school. Had a free sandwich from Firehouse Subs. Went to the zoo. Had dinner with my mom, dad, mom-in-law and grandmothers.
I kept checking Facebook along the way. The very kind wishes and quick messages through the day made the whole day more special. Just small, constant reminders that people were thinking of me. It made me happy in a way that birthday cards rarely do.
Birthday cards are pre-fab. They rarely say what you need them to say and, even when they do, you have to decide whether to keep it filed away someplace or recycle. I generally recycle.
That’s not to say that birthday cards are bad. My grandmother always takes a lot of time to pick out the best card and writes a long, special message every time. Then, she further personalizes by underlining the key phrases in the card that she wants to emphasize. Something very special will be gone from my life when she isn’t around to do that. I don’t want my grandmother to post to my Facebook Wall.
But everybody else, thanks for thinking of me. Your thoughts, messages and notes made me feel like I had friends with me all day.