President Obama and I have something very special in common. We were both born the same year, and later this year, we'll both be turning the big five-oh.
I've been feeling an impending dread. Not because some say the world will end today at 6pm. I think that's silly. I have way too many quilts to make and need to watch my children grow up and have children of their own, so this end-of-the-world scenario just doesn't fit in with my plans. No, this dread has been at the prospect of turning 50. So I am spending some time looking at this and trying to work my way around to accepting this.
I think part of the dread comes from having unfulfilled dreams. However, when I look back on what I've done so far in my life, what I've come through, it's really remarkable I'm even still here, and I have managed to accomplish enough that I can feel good about that. If the world should end later today, I can rest assured that I've told my children at least 80,000 times that I love them, and shown them I love them as best as I can. I've taken time to help where I could. I've worked hard to support my family. I have tried to be a patient and caring friend, wife, and mother.
Perhaps the dread comes from realizing that some of my dreams are probably not going to happen. And that's probably okay. I've managed to make my biggest dreams come true, having a home and family of my own. Considering where I came from, I feel that this is a huge accomplishment (and I also give God huge credit for this, because it's been a rough road, and He has always been there to help me). Given the choice between having happy, healthy kids and, say, traveling the world, I guess I'm happier with the kids part. Traveling through life with them has been an incredible trip, and there's so much more to come. Seeing the miracle in the world all around us, through their eyes, has been so amazing, I wouldn't trade that for anything.
Perhaps some of the dread comes from having had to deal with an aging body, and facing even more things falling apart as I grow older. But you know, I've discovered that this can be a mixed blessing. Sure, my wrinkles grow deeper and more pronounced, but as I get older, my eyesight gets worse, so if I don't see them in the mirror, they can't really bother me, right? Yes, it takes longer to heal, but three weeks at 50+ is kind of like two hours when I was younger, since time seems to have speeded up, so doesn't that sort of balance out now?
I think living in a culture that worships youth and vitality, and seems to be ever more resentful of older citizens, doesn't help with this whole aging thing. However, as I face another birthday, another year behind me, I'm going to make a choice to look at my blessings, not let go of my dreams just in case I get to live them, and show my own children that getting older is okay.
Two of my oldest and dearest friends have recently celebrated their 50th birthdays. One, I've known since Kindergarten. And how cool is it that I've got friends I've known that long?
Today, I promise myself to turn this dread into something better. Each wrinkle is a testament to a life lived boldly (well, mostly), each ache and pain means that I haven't wasted the body that God gave me, and each passing year means another year of enjoying my family, learning, and growth - and maybe even another fulfilled dream.
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