Yet another year flew past, and suddenly I find myself, knees deep in turning 41. Now forty was kinda rough for me, it seemed like it was a turning point in my life, and after forty.. things were slipping. Slipping fast.
The days went by, weeks, months, all of it was moving at record pace. I was so fearful of the days that were going by, that I could hardly enjoy them.
My body changed, the grey came in a little more aggressively, and aches and pains snuck up on me.
My brain still worked though, it seemed sharper and clearer, and my attitude of “give not a care” helped me find my priorities.
So, on the eve of my 41st, the past year rushed at me. I had an overwhelming fear that it went to fast, that I hadn’t done enough, that I was missing something.
I went to sleep that night with my heart pounding. Fear. Worry. Sadness. A crazy mix of emotions, and all the wrong ones.
Hubby let me sleep in a wee bit and woke me up with a hot cup of coffee and a beaming smile. The sun was shining, lunches were made, and my birthday was here.
I allowed myself to make tentative thoughts about the day, about turning another year older. I went for a sunny, ocean side walk with my man, and we chatted.
The rest of the day was spent doing what we love, building, improving and spending time together. A lovely dinner with the kids, and curled up watching a movie that night.
When I went to bed I looked back on my day, and even though there was no party, or momentous anything to celebrate my aging, it was exactly what I needed. A gentle welcoming into a new year, allowing me time to accept and process.
It isn’t turning another number that gets me, it never has been. It is losing another year of a life I love.
I closed my eyes last night and realized that my days are good, great even. That struggling to hold onto them will just change them into something I don’t love. My hubby reminded me that we have time, lots of it hopefully. Our kids will always need us, even when they are long gone from our home. We have many, many stages of life still yet to live.
This morning, I am a full 41. I will embrace my year, and accept that in 365 days I will be 42. I will trust that even though nothing last forever, it will last long enough. I will treasure each day for what it brings, never mourning for what it didn’t.
And I will age. . . and trust that I will get better and better each day that goes by.