Turning 44

Birthdays.

A time when you wake up and know that something is a little different. You feel a pep in your step, a warmness in your heart. There is an indescribable feeling that goes with this day. Maybe not many people feel the same way I do. I blame it on my mother.

When I was younger, my mother spoiled my sisters and I on our birthdays. It was the only time of year that she went all out. Cake. Party. Friends. Presents. It was our day, and we felt special.  Many of my memories from my youth are about my birthdays. When I had my own children, I knew that I wanted them to experience birthdays like I had.

But special for me when I was younger has been different for them. I can count on one hand how many birthday parties with friends my three children have had. It's not something they ask for too often. Instead, they would rather the day be their day to do as they please. They plan the meals and activities. They make lists. But most importantly they have the attention of everyone else in the household. This has worked for us.

Equally exciting is the decoration of the dining room. The siblings decorate in whatever theme the birthday child wants. The chalkboard wall is covered with anything and everything birthday.

It's a nice tradition we have started and one that will continue for a long time.

Today I turned 44.

I woke up feeling special.

My kids decorated the room for me. They doused the table with presents, and they were excited.

But.

I.

Also.

Woke.

Up.

Feeling.

Cautious.

My mom died at 54. Ten years from where I am right now.

So at 44 I can see it two ways:

Worry that each year is one year closer to when she got sick and passed away.

Or

Take in the moments. Each day. Watch my kids grow, enjoy my profession, lead through kindness.

In the back of my mind I believe I will always worry. But that is in the back, trying to stay hidden.

For now, though, I will take in the moments.

Because today I turned 44, and I have a lot more moments to live.