It’s weird when the eyesight starts to go. You have to wait and look at the menu, your eyes look all crazy when you put on the readers. But your friends are doing it and you joke and you laugh about it, and it’s all good. What do you expect, you’re 49.
And it’s also weird when your sister, much younger and many times mistaken as your daughter, tells you that 49 seems old. Maybe it is. I’m warming up to it, as it’s better than the alternative.
And today I ate cottage cheese with salt and vinegar potato chips on top and couldn’t wait to tell someone. It was magic and maybe sad, but I’m 49, I don’t care.
It’s true what they say about not giving F’s as you age, if only we could gift it to our kids a tad younger and spare them some heartache. Although, the heartache builds the character, so maybe they shouldn’t be spared? Whatever, I don’t know.
And as the wine sets in, I cannot believe I was born here, raised here, loved here and I can pass that onto my kids by the grace of community friends and family. What is happening to families in this world is unfathomable, and it’s weird that I just get to go to dinner on a Monday and Target on Tuesday and a football game on Saturday. Why do I get to do those things while so many suffer?
I've found myself asking the “why’s” a lot more and the “wtaf”s a whole lot more. And although I don’t have answers to things I pray for, or solutions to things I beg for; I have more love than I dreamed of being possible. If you are reading this, you have given me and my family that love, and I will pass it on this 49th year and all that may come. ❤️
