F O R T Y

Turning 40, as I have recently done (yesterday) didn't phase me, really.  Age, to me, tends to seem a fluid thing rather than a definitive label.  For the most part.  There is that time-warp whereby I may feel 17 and 30 (or whatever age) all at once, recalling my HS days of eating apple turnovers slathered with frosting during AHS study hall like it was just a few years ago, or last week, even.  But then, when attending the AHS girls' state championship game last weekend (with my fabulous sister and former teammate), it struck us that a girl with whom I graduated had a DAUGHTER on the team.  That from the perspective of the student section decked in their blue and gold, Remy and I are "parent-type people."  Old.  I see myself clearly in the "parent" generation, as I spend all my waking hours parenting or teaching HS kids or both.  But when one returns to the home turf, it takes on a new perspective

What really phased me yesterday, on the actual, no-longer-30-something day, wasn't my age, but my family and my friends.  OH.  MY. GOODNESS.  How can any one person deserve so much time and energy and thoughtfulness from such a large number of people?  The phone calls, and messages, and emails, and cards, and in-person visits, and gifts, and recalling of memories.  Hugs.  Laughter.  Vulnerable sentiments.  That's a whole lot of becoming convinced that I really am already "enough."  Powerful stuff. 

I treasure and am keeping in hard-copy form all of my notes.  To catalogue them here would be a huge and silly task, but I thought I would at least share with you what my children wrote to me  .  .  .

Baylor's characteristic lovey-dovey, not afraid to let her sentiments show:
"Happy Birthday Mom!  You're the best mom in the world!  I don't know what I would do without an awesome Mom like you!  Happy 40teith B-day Mom!  Love Baylor"

  .  .  .  and Jameson's typical, direct and sweet style:
"happy Birthday mom I Love you and I wish you have a god Birthday and youer not 39 youer 40 now.  Love, Jameson"

  .  .  .  and Anna's under-the-gun-for-time-so-rhyming-will-have-to-do poem that admits she's learned some stuff from me (hooray!) :
"Happy Birthday!  It's her birthday --  What a day --  It's old mamma's birthday -- There's so much to say -- I just want to shout 'hurray'! -- You have done so much for me and Bay -- You have taught us to say okay -- You've taught me things I didn't know about the USA -- Today is your special day to stop working and except (accept) our repay -- You are truly wonderful, for you I pray -- I wish you the happiest 40th birthday -- 'Hey,' how did you get so old so fast?  Happy birthday.  Love, Anna"
(All rhyming until her comical dig at the end, that is.)

  .  .  .  and then, there's Hunter's take:
"Dang can't believe your 40.  Know whenever we r walking across the street together people will think I'm helping elderly foke across the road and then there will be a line of them waiting to be walked across.  It would make me look good but I think I should charge a dollar.  Love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Love, Hunter  p.s. don't be grandma kissing me just cause u r getting older lol.  Yolo -- you only live once.  Sorry you can't age backwards unless you a zombie.  (Picture of 80+-year-old woman wearing newspaper hat, green ribbon necklace and red paint on her nose)  It took me 40 years to look this good."

A day of laughter, indeed!