Carpe Dieming

Today's my 45th birthday. I feel like I should have some profound wisdom to impart to mark the occasion. Alas, I do not, unless you count how grateful I am for spell-check because without it, I would always spell "occasion" wrong.

Forty-five feels like most other days. It only starts to get a little weird when I realize that my daughter turns 19 today, and tomorrow my first-born turns 22. Yeah, the fact that I have kids that old is weird to me. However, the fact that I'm ridiculously proud of both of them definitely helps with the mish-mash happening in my brain as it struggles to reconcile the fact that I'm old enough to have kids that old. And (since you asked) here are a few more reflections as I cross over this mid-life threshold:

At 45, I'm

• six years away from being an empty-nester. That idea was nothing but completely appealing when my kids were barely out of diapers and naps. Now that they're all so self-sufficient (and tall), I'm beginning to feel the pangs of impending emptiness. 
• three years older than Ray ever was. Since he was seven years older than I, that's extremely weird. As the years continue, I suspect that will just keep getting weirder.
• going back to school. Yes, at "mid-life" I'm experiencing a new beginning and that's very exciting (okay, and a little bit terrifying).
• mom to a 22 year-old college senior.
• more appreciative of the truth of the saying, "the older I get the better I was," mostly as it relates to physical perkiness. (Just keepin' it real, folks.)
• more secure and comfortable in my own skin than I've ever been (yes, even in spite of the above mentioned fact).

One one hand, forty-five years seem impossible for this girl who can so easily touch her high school days, her newly married days, her new mommy days. On the other hand, this same girl is acutely aware of the few years that ruthlessly stole more than their year's share.

I like to think 45 years of life have given me balance and perspective and appreciation. Oh, I'm still a very black & white personality, but I am more comfortable with that fact now; much less inclined to cower to disapproval. I like to think I've gained a better perspective of grace in the hard, a better balance of justice & mercy.

Each of my (eh'em, very few) wrinkles says something about who I am, where I've been. Even the battle scars remind me of strength I didn't know (or want to know) I had. And I'm eternally thankful to the ones who have fought by my side during the battles. 

So yeah, 45 and life is too good to pass up. I'm carpe diem'ing the you-know-what out of all 365 of 45.

My daughter and birthday twin, Alexa & me in Tahoe, 2012