Another Year Older

I’ve started 3-4 blogs this last week about my birthday today. Each one is in blog-purgatory as a draft that will probably never see the light of day. Some felt to somber, some to flippant, and none of them felt right at all. Which, ironically enough, matches my recent moods rather spectacularly. But here I am, most of the way through my 27th birthday, and I can’t seem to find the words I want to say about it all.

birthday swag – furniture from my husband, bedding from my parents

My facebook account has exploded today. People that I talk to regularly, rarely, and never, have all popped out of the wood works to wish me a happy day. And yet my actual day has been quiet. It’s ironic, because about 2 weeks ago I thought I’d spend today working and then going to a meeting. Today? Neither of those is happening. Instead I’ve taken my cone-of-shame wearing dog for a walk. Made and eaten cinnamon toast. And gone to Burger King for lunch with Brian. Coming up tonight we have a dinner with friends, where I hope fervently that they actually choose to coral their own children, so that I don’t spend my birthday dinner entertaining the munchkins. The evening will be capped off with an SFS softball game, where I hope our boys can win their first game of the season.

And yet, I wouldn’t call this a bad birthday. Last year’s was “celebrated” on a plane flying from the US back to Germany. No, today has been quiet, unremarkable, just another day; but not at all bad. Is this what getting older is? Learning and accepting the normality of so-called special days? The military and long distance relationships have both conspired to teach me to celebrate when I can. Holidays, anniversaries, birthdays, and the like are not guaranteed to be spent together.

I still attach hefty significance of the importance of a day to the actual day. But I am getting better about that too. About celebrating it when I can, even if that isn’t the actual day of the event. And learning to accept that if it truly is the thought that counts, then the actual events of the day aren’t as important. If we could, B and I would have run away to Germany to have sushi with a friend today. And that’s the thought that counts for me.

Here I am, another year older, and maybe, just maybe, another year better.

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About texancountess

I find myself in the calming roar of the sea, floating gently on the foam of the breaking waves. Blue. Green. Gray. The colors of the sea mark the boundaries of my soul. The tumbled glass finds its polish under the relentless pounding of the waves upon the shore. Thus am I. Rough transitioning to polish, refinement ever a process, finding my niche in the storms of life.
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2 Responses to Another Year Older

  1. Mary says:

    Happy birthday!!!

  2. Army Amy says:

    I hope you have had a happy birthday!*

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