Today, I turn 49 years old. My last two weeks of feeling like death on a cracker make a birthday seem especially sweet. In the past year, I’ve made peace with my need to wear glasses instead of contact lenses and generally embraced the fact that aging has its virtues. Mine include grey hairs……lots of them. But I like to think that I’m holding my own at 49.
My weekend has been a relaxing combination of time spent withT and JT, two of the nicest blessings in my life, and an assortment of the things I love most. I had a couple of extra naps. We went out to supper and watched some Longmire episodes on Netflix. There were great presents from people who know me well and love me anyway. I set out November decorations on my front porch, read a good book, and planted some tulip bulbs in anticipation of the coming spring. There was chocolate cake.
In years past, my birthday has fallen on election day. That’s always felt fitting and this year we’ll celebrate again on Tuesday. I’m crossing my fingers and toes that it’s a celebration of a most hopeful sort. I’m a patriot, a woman who named her only child after a president, a teacher of American history who still cries every year when I read the Declaration of Independence out loud with my students. I know that my nation is not perfect but I believe in the promise of America. We are a diverse people who can do great things when we work together. As I head into my 50th year, I’d dearly love for it to be a year of working together in an America with hope as its central value.
Two more days. Let's do right by one another, America.