A Birthday

I was blessed to have another birthday, and now that it is over, I am savoring both the lessons and the experience and yes, in awe at the number

As I sat quietly on the weathered white couch (that traveled with me seven years ago) after both the clock struck midnight and a beloved son departed for an early flight, my thoughts conflicted.

I pondered on the enigma of how while there is no dispute that the body ages and becomes rigid with time, the emotions and/or intellect seemingly become more flexible.

Despite all the words of wisdom about maintaining youth via exercise, potions and medical miracles, age is inevitable unless death intervenes.

And while the numbers added up on my own personal calendar, I have learned to admit the truth, my body is no longer able to be indulgent of my whims. I find structure is the only antidote to maintaining any iota of independence.

Yet I have become far more tolerant, or to use a better word flexible about understanding life’s variables. And, also, less prone to regret. I have found confidence in the belief I have tried my best, despite feet of clay and many failures, and hopefully that will be my judgment.

Although none of these changes have been sought, they seem to appear hand in hand with physical age.

Allowing me to comprehend more fully

how wonderful life is and was.

And there in lurks the miracle.