30 Favourite Things #16

Birthdays!  Birthdays! Birthdays!  These were favourite things from my fiftieth year.  I’m not sure just which birthday stood out the most over this past year.  But one birthday I was *so* extraordinarily happy to celebrate was my husband’s birthday.  As I look back I marvel at the goodness and mercy of the LORD and truly, I was/am so thankful the LORD gave him another birthday and I pray for many more.  Wes’s birthday was one day shy of one year since he had a heart attack.  I recall thinking in the ICCU surgery waiting room: Lord, will he have any more birthdays — was yesterday’s birthday the last?  And now more time has passed… and I do praise the LORD for every day.  

Well, many happy birthdays were celebrated.  A couple were celebrated without the ‘birthday boy’ or ‘birthday girl’ present.  Both Kathryn and Timothy were in Africa (and Timothy just had his second birthday celebration the last baby turned 7 and the first baby turned 29.   In between were all the other wonderful birthdays of our own children (and many other wonderful birthdays as well!!) — 10, 12, 13, 15, 17, 18, 20, 22, 27… which actually means that some of those have already or will shortly be one higher.  Again, I marvel: I never thought I would be this old (and feel this young!!).    Truly, no kidding around, I marvel that my ‘baby’ will soon be thirty — bcz I find myself thinking:  didn’t *I* just turn thirty!?!  I mean it sort of seems like it was recent – I know, I know.. it was soooo long ago that I simply cannot remember it.

So, anyway, now I find I further understand people’s comments such as: age is a state of mind or you’re as young as you feel or you’re only as old as you feel, or I’m not getting old, I’m getting better, or whatever.  I know I probably used to think those comments were sort of silly, I’m sure.   I probably thought they were the sort of “positive mental attitude” stuff that “old people” say to console themselves — you know, that condescending attitude most many young people have toward anyone 20 years older than themselves.

Okay.  I repent.  I wish I had known then what I know now.

I don’t feel old.  I do feel better.  I know I’m not as young as I was — but I sure don’t feel older.   But I do have to admit: when I stop and attempt to recount but a few hundred of the thousands of things that have happened — well, my goodness, I’ve got to be older!  I marvel at how much has occurred, how many things we’ve done in such a short time!!  I’m sure glad I got to live this long.  Wow.  What if it’s double this?!??!!!!!

So I resolve not to listen to young people’s ignorant comments and respond in kind.  I want to grow older gracefully.   I hope I’ll remember how these days feel and how those days felt.  I don’t want to become an impatient, bitter, crotchety old woman waving my cane at the little whippersnappers and yelling:  just wait, your time’s coming!