I feed all the fur babies and smile and tell them it's my birthday. I look out to find a perfect moon still shining and sunshine on the horizon. I'm alive. Not perfect, not without problems or extra pounds but I'm alive.
My daughter has begun to count my birthdays as a count down. "Two more years til your Golden Age birthday" She's also now grounded until then.
It's these middle of life birthdays that have me counting more backwards then forwards. When we were 9 we couldn't wait to get to the next one and even added the half mid year, "Yes, I'm 9 and a half and I'll be 10 in 6 months". Now I look ahead and I think, "I've got a lot to do, I better pick up the pace." I've got books to write, schools to start, kids to raise, and travel to do.
I want to live fully alive. I'm not afraid of aging and the wrinkles and gravity taking over, that's a battle you can't win easily or cheaply. I'm afraid I won't get it all done. I'm a dreamer and a doer and there's so much more I want to do and see and know and be.
In the words of my favorite humor author, Erma
When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.”
― Erma Bombeck
So if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to living, dreaming, doing and using up more of what God has given me. No resting on my laurels, I think He's still got big plans for me and I don't want to miss it.