Monday, December 30, 2013

The sun sets on Happy Birthay

Mid-elementary school, my parents gave me a Christmas/birthday present - a bike. I was thrilled to have the freedom of riding up and down the street.

On my 19th birthday, just a week after my first son was born, my then-husband convinced me that leaving my new baby with a sitter and going to the comedy club to see Gallagher was the thing to do.

My 25th birthday was the day everyone I ever knew took the opportunity to say 'you're old, a quarter of a century.' What happen was, what they would have called it a nervous break down.

Birthday 38 was spent in the eerie quiet of the last ice storm of the 20th century.

By the 43rd birthday, my ducks were in a row... things were moving along quite well. The kids baked me a cake.

The years fly as did mine and the country's economy... birthday 47 came and went without a peep.

More than half way through a century, I found watching the sunset while sitting on a Mexican beach absolutely the best present ever.

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