On turning 50

50 years ago I made my entrance into this world. I was born lucky. Almost on St. Pat's day. My parents wanted me and loved me as much as any two young parents love their first born. I was raised with that love and it only intensified with the birth of each sibling. I'm the oldest of four-and at some point in my life each one of my siblings has been my salvation. They are incredible people. Smart, funny, and full of love...just like Mom and Dad. Things weren't always easy-Dad worked in the day and went to school at night. Mom worked an assortment of jobs. Kids argue, fuss, and get into all sorts of trouble. Sometimes we didn't have much, but we had each other. Really had each other. I knew(and still know) that all I have to say is I need... and they're there. That's the way it has always been. When one of us hurts, it seems like all of us hurt.
So, it's my birthday and the first one without my mom. It should be easier on me-I've watched the others and they seem to be getting stronger. I had her a little longer than them. No really, I did. You know how kids grow up and move out? I grew up, moved out, and moved back in again. In my forties and living with my mom-I thought she'd be really glad to get rid of me when the time came. She wasn't. We laughed about it. Both crying and laughing-both us not wanting to move on. Not wanting to let go.
I'm still not good at letting go-I don't think I ever will be and now that I've hit that half century mark I'm thinking about it. Face it, I've probably lived half my life already. That doesn't depress me or scare me. I've had an incredible life. I've felt the mist of  Niagra Falls on my face. Stood on the rim of the Grand Canyon with the love of my life and beneath the Eiffel Tower with one of my very best friends.  For every tear I've shed, there has been twice as much laughter. My children have all told me that they love me. My girls tell me so much it's almost embarrassing, but don't think my heart doesn't do a little dance every time I hear the words "Mom, I love you".  My son called to tell me that one night and left a voice message on my phone-it's almost a year old now and I still replay it. More importantly-they've shown me that they love me. My grandson does too.
My husband has made it his mission to make my dreams come true... and he's doing a very fine job. There are things I'd like to do in the future-so I'll keep dreaming about them-and Dwight will keep making them come true.
So this getting old isn't for sissies, but it's for me.