Musings on my birthday

Wow, tomorrow I will be 58.  That's amazing....because, in so many ways, I feel as though I am still about 16.  I have three adult children, and in some ways, I feel as though I still know nothing about living or how to be a good mom or a good teacher.  How is that I have grown old?  When I look at my terrific kids, I feel it is appropriate that they are 25, 22, and 20.  It seems right.  I remember their babyhoods and their childhoods with smiles.  But, it doesn't seem right that I'm 58.  58.  That's a pretty big number.  Lots of people don't make it to 58.  Have I done anything that really matters in my 58 years on the planet?  Have I made a difference?  I have loved almost every moment of those 58 years.  There have some times that I could have done without.  Childbirth was NOT fun.  Losing my mom and dad were heart wrenching experiences.  Watching my husband struggle with dementia is not great.  But, still, most times have been good.  There have been far more smiles than frowns; more happiness than sadness; more hope than fear.  I've loved my job and I have amazing people in my life who make a difference for good each day.

Could it really have been so long ago that I sat in my bedroom with  my best friend, Connie, and dreamed about who I would marry and what my children would be like?  I feel caught up in some kind of cosmic time warp.  Wasn't it just yesterday that Connie and I were sharing dreams and stories?  And, I miss my mom and dad.  Hardly a day goes by that I don't think of them and even start to pick up the phone to tell them about this or that event.  Becca had a dream the other night that dad was sitting in the big chair in the living room.  He told her he loved her.  Can it really be that he's been gone from us for 6 months already?

There are no easy answers to these questions, but the fact that I can pose them gives me hope.  Here's to the next 58.  I will never stop loving, or learning, until I stop living.  And, in the end, that is all that I really want.