The Birthday that Was

Turning 60 was and wasn’t a big deal. I’ve spoken of that already….but have just a mite more to say.

Itza milestone, yet not in the same way it was a decade ago. 60 is now considered middle aged…having been 50…I don’t mind 60 is middle aged…I rather like imagining myself with 20 or so more years of actively living life in me. (though, I do clearly remember a not so long ago where that was not true.).

My mother is 81, and while admittedly more frail than a year ago, still going strong. Women on my mom’s side have always lived into their 80’s and beyond. Realistically, I can expect pretty much the same barring the universe having other ideas. (which would, clearly, not mirror my own.)

What struck me more about this birthday was the tenor of the cards I received from my grown children. The same smart aleckiness on the outside with more unexpectedly introspective thought inside than is their usual greeting card fare:

“Six-OH!! I can only hope that when I turn 60 that I can say that I have as much fun & adventure as you have had and are still having. You haven’t lost that sense of wonder & whimsy – I don’t think you ever will.” From my normally reticent 30 year old son. Thank you son. I think neither will you.

“Happy Birthday to my “hippie” mom. I thought of those patched up jeans you used to love to wear when I was a kid. They seemed to symbolize that bit of conventional rebellion you posses. Always something to add a “twist” to any outfit. Maybe a splash of color with your purple socks. You taught me to look at the world open and positively. All things are possible. The world wouldn’t be so colorful without you!!” From my 38 year old daughter. Ahem…’scuse me a sec…sniff, sniff…sumfin inna my eye.

Parents often wonder the impact they’ve had on their children. Mine could not have given me better gifts than their view of what the world looks like to them through my eyes.

In the years that have passed since Jim died in 2002, I have been challenged to consider how my actions have colored their own world. That they can still see some of that old me in the new one gives me hope that I have not done so badly in showing them that life is still life even through the life altering loss of their father in all our lives.

What ever happens next, my children have given me a beautiful gift in their words and I take some comfort in knowing I may have actually done good after all.

To life and love and laughter.