Today was my birthday. I’ve always loved my birthday! Just once a year, a day to reflect on ME!
I was thinking about it as I stepped into the bathroom this morning to shower, and suddenly something tickled my nose. Was it . . . a nose hair? Oh my goodness. A long nose hair? A white nose hair? Was it all downhill from here? I remember a few years ago when a friend a few years older than me warned me that someday, I’d find white hairs when and where I least expected, including my nose. Had that day really arrived, right then and there on my 41st birthday? Is this what it means to be “in my 40s?”
I’m going with NO. After eliminating all evidence of said white nose hair, I spent the day at my parents’ house, chasing after my boys, covering them in sunscreen, watching them splash in kiddie pools. I ate cake and more cake. I stood guard on the sidewalk as the boys enjoyed riding toys on the same driveway I did as a kid. It has just enough of a hill that you get a rush rounding the corner at the bottom and feel like you can conquer the world or at least be champion of the neighborhood. I watched them head up the street to the street lamp, the very street lamp that was for so long my boundary as a child. “Ride to the corner and then turn around,” my parents would say. It felt like quite a journey in our old-fashioned red metal wagon, on my blue bike with training wheels and a flowered basket and bell, on my purple scooter. It was safe with a hint of daring that was just right for me.
That street lamp filled my yesterdays, and today it reminded me of all my youthful tomorrows as I followed my boys back and forth up the sidewalk. Whether I’m growing nose hair or growing old, I’m growing amazing M.O.B. memories, and I’m doing it with energy and grace.