Yesterday was my birthday. In between the laundry and the dog-walking and the dinner-making and the kid-running and the raindrop-dodging, it was a pretty good day.
The highlight, for me, was going to Abby’s high school orchestra concert which was held at the community college nearby. It was kind of neat to have the kids play on a bigger stage than they normally would, but the best part was the music. Oh my! Abby’s orchestra group played Dvorak’s 8th Symphony—four movements—and it was fabulous.
It does a mama’s heart proud to hear her girl play in a group like that. Yes, it does.
O.K., if you’re reading carefully, you’ll know that I lied up there. No, not the part about the orchestra concert—that was the truth. But the part about having a good day was a lie.
It wasn’t a good day at all. I spent the day alone, for the most part. It was cold. It was rainy. It was just a normal day.
Birthdays aren’t supposed to be normal.
But what really made this day a bit of a downer for me was the realization that I’m now closer to 50 than I am to 40. I don’t know why this bothers me so much, but I have to tell you, it does. Big time.
Here’s why I think it stinks for me.
I don’t like change. At all. Which is probably why I’m the only member of my family who still lives in the state she grew up in. I think about leaving all the time, but do I do anything about it? No. The change would probably kill me, so I stay put. Pathetic, I know.
So changing decades, or even the thought of changing decades, is a pretty big deal to me.
I remember when I turned 30. I stood in front of the mirror that day and just stared. I was probably frozen with fear, thinking about all that would come my way in the next decade. Rightly so!
When I think about all that could happen in my 50’s—kids going to college, kids graduating college, kids getting married and possibly even making me a grandma—it’s just about too much for my heart to handle. All that change!
And it’s still four years away. I truly am a basket case.
I don’t want to become one of those women who try to act and dress like they’re younger than they really are. I’m not that way. And I don’t want to be in denial about what is going to happen in my life (and to my body) in the next few years. It is what it is.
I am officially middle aged, in my mind, and I wonder what I’m accomplishing. I wonder if I’m ever going to do all the things I want to do with my life. I wonder if I’m doing what God wants me to do. I wait on Him, and I wonder. . . .
I had no intention of writing this post; I don’t want to depress you, and more than that I don’t want to depress me. But these are the things that are on my mind, and it usually works out pretty well if I write what’s on my mind.
I think it’s time for the sun to come out.