You know how when you’re a child, you spend the entire year looking forward to your birthday? And as it gets closer and closer, you get more and more excited, to the point that you spend the night before your birthday, awake and aquiver with anticipation?
I woke up this morning, like on any other morning, went about my routine and once all my jobs were done, sat down at the computer while waiting for the boys to get ready.
That’s when I saw it – the message from a friend, wishing me a Happy Birthday.
I had completely forgotten.
Who knew that turning 46 could be that low key?
Having remembered myself, I told the boys, who began serenading me with “Happy Birthday” and giving me hugs. I promptly decided that we needed to go out for dinner, because who wants to cook on their birthday?
By lovely coincidence, my regular coffee group was meeting this morning, so we had cakes, organised by another friend, and even a candle for me to blow out. It was so nice to be among people who know and appreciate me.
And when I got home, there was a ginormous bunch of flowers on my doorstep from yet another friend, who totally blew me away by her thoughtfulness.
Now I’m sitting here, while the rain and wind are raging outside, happy in my little cocoon of warmth and dryness, surrounded by the invisible threads of connection that link me to the rest of the world.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt more connected to the world, than I do now. Even though I still find it hard to make deep emotional bonds with people, the energy of all those social media, business and friendship connections keeps me snugly planted in the universe. The threads may feel like gossamer at times, but they join and overlap, creating a net that keeps me from floating away.
I have a feeling in my gut that the best is yet to come. I look forward to turning 50 and being the woman I want to be – strong, connected, aware and joyful.
There is still so much to do. I feel so full of stuff that I want to do, almost full to bursting. There don’t seem to be enough hours in the day to work on all that I want to accomplish. The fact that so many of those hours need to be devoted to self-care and parenting, make me wish for a fast-forward button. Yet I don’t want to miss a thing. I notice all the little things, like the amazing green of mid-winter in Ballarat, as the earth prepares for spring, and the feel of my sons’ hands in mine as we walk to the car from school. I know the days they let me do that are numbered, so I bless each one as they come.
It feels like anything is possible.