I'm thirty four years old today.
I remember birthdays used to make me excited and also leave a nagging sadness at the prospect of getting older. I used to let myself elate in the celebrations and then allow myself some feel-sorry-for-myself time in the quiet of my own company.
But not this year.
This year I got to sleep in til 8 a.m. (Well, I woke up earlier but laid around reading books and generally staying horizontal for a few hours). Then I fed the kids breakfast, dressed them and took them to the community centre. Cole had Dash sports and Amelia and I picked new library books. This afternoon, I went to Canadian Tire and bought my 20-bag-limit of 87 cent top soil. I treated myself to a cafe mocha. Tonight, we're leaving the kids in the care of a capable 16 year old and we're going out for supper. The perfect mixture of celebration and everyday stuff.
At the back of my mind, do I worry about wrinkles, graying hairs and droopy bits that mark the passage of time?
But not today.
Today I am remembering that my thirty first birthday was spent in the Oakville hospital recovering from a thyroidectomy. I remember waking up and seeing a fearful look on my husband and father's faces that would later be explained by the doctor's words, "The cancer had spread to your lymph nodes."
That birthday sucked.
It was wracked with questions and doubts and fear.
And now here I am three years later and no reason to be afraid.
Only a million reasons to be grateful.
A million reasons to thank the heavens for another year.
So Thank You, Skies, for letting me get older.
Thanks for noisy birds in the morning. Thanks for letting me watch my kids hunt easter eggs and play with their cousin. Thanks for dirt and diaper cream under my finger nails. Thanks for the ridiculous moments in the day that inspire me to laugh at myself... and to blog about it. Thanks for the smell of worms in the rain. Thanks for a job I love, for friends I love, for a family that couldn't be more wonderful. Thanks for letting me go through each day without pain or fear.
But thanks for letting me know fear, so I can see how incredibly lucky I am.
To thirty four years... and counting.