I’m turning 54. I’m struck with the quintessential “Where did the time go?” saying running rings around my brain. It’s not quite just the age and time thing either; it’s a sort of landmark year. My father passed away when he was 54, and if I make it to the end of November of this year (God willing and no natural disasters), I’ll have surpassed him in age. It’s weird.
Some would call my thought process morbid, but I find it revealing. I understand now, with two children at home, just how much my father didn’t get the chance to see, and how impossibly alive he was at 54. I know that it’s not middle age, unless I live to be 108, and that thought is enough to scare dentures right out of my head. I can’t imagine me at 108, but I can see myself at 55, 56, and so on. There is so much I want to do and the realization that my father wanted to continue further, and be more, rides with me like a back seat driver, poking and calling attention to all I need to see.
The day after my birthday, I’ll also be celebrating my Mama’s. Fifty-four years ago I was her day-early birthday present, and I wish she could be here so I could thank her for all the birthdays and life lessons she gave me. Yep, it’s quite a day. I carry with me my Mama and Daddy and get to be surrounded by my own little family as well. Who says things don’t come full circle?
Whether I make 108 or 55, I know I’ve been hit on the head with luck. I had parents who loved me; a father-in-law who has been my Dad longer than my own was allowed to, the grace and giving of true friends, the blessings of a husband who is my friend, and the challenges of raising a family of my own. You might wonder who could ask for anything more, and I can honestly answer, me.