…turning 49

This progression is a reflection of how we roll....

Somehow this one bothered me.  How in the world have I lived long enough to be one year away from 50?  Honestly, it seems like a second ago I was 22, wondering what my life would be, then trying to figure out what to do, then doing it, then having babies, and now here I am with a son almost as tall as I am.  There is no way you are a “young adult” at 50.  Steven Jobs just died in his 50s.  So I was dreading today a little bit.  Not a lot.  But definitely bugging me, and my idea was that I would like to start going backwards.  That way, in my mid-twenties, I could hang out with my kids, and we would be similar ages.  That would be cool, wouldn’t it?

But I have to tell you, it’s been an amazing day.  I think I was wrong.  Who cares what my age is?  I’m alive in this moment, and truthfully, that’s all any of us has, isn’t it?  I couldn’t want anything different except that my parents were alive and well and with us.  But I don’t have that option, and given what I do have, I’m struck by what a rich life I’ve been given.

Let me back up one step. This last year, or last two years, has been such a time of re-adjustment.  Maybe that’s not the right word.  When my dad died, my mom was still a vibrant, brilliant woman at the center of our family.  We didn’t realize at that moment that she had alzheimer’s, and that the disease would steal almost everything from her except her ability to eat.  That change has had ripple effects that have affected our family like tidal waves.  Where is our place in our family?  How do we do this without a center?  David is now living in two rooms of my mom’s house, but the rest of the large house that resonated with laughter and was filled with toys and books and pets is now quiet, and unkept.  It’s not the greatest place for my little Durham family now, so we’ve been trying to find our way into a new era.  I want the extended family relationships to continue, but how?  Do we now stay with sibs?

I’m coming back to my birthday, so stay with me!  I was in Salisbury last summer, and I drove past my mom’s street.  It had been a year since she had moved, a year since John would say “We have two homes—one in Salisbury and one in Durham.”  A year since we went there almost every week, being greeted like we were the best thing in the world.  Passing her street, seeing her house dark and quiet,  I said to Adam, “When do you think this is going to stop hurting so much? It’s so deep.”

We kept driving and went to my sister Phyllis’ house.  She had a big meal with the whole family.  My cousin had to leave early because of a 5k in the morning.  She invited me to come.  Mmmm.  Well, why not?  Phyllis offered to watch the kids, who would still be asleep.  I had been working out, regularly running on a tread mill.  Couldn’t hurt to try, right?  It was a new experience for me.  I’m NOT a runner or a racer.

It started at the track at Knox Jr. High.  Ironic I thought.  I had run around that track as a child.  We came up every year from the elementary school next door to run around it, and I was always last.  Honestly, last.  I’ve always had short legs, but still, it always stung a little bit, especially when I got lapped.

When the gong sounded, I was in the middle of the pack.  The early morning sun warmed my face, John Denver’s Montanna Sky blasted in my ears, thanks to my brother David’s ipod.

We all started.  I’m not sure I can describe this.  I was doing a new think in an old place.  We started by going past my elementary school.  I thought of my dad dropping me off every morning, and years later when my mom went there with Rosie and John when they were younger to play in the playground  We headed through the greenway, and I remembered John learning to ride his bike, my mom staying with Rosie as I ran behind him.  This was the bike John HAD to have.  My mom gave it to him for his third birthday, right after my dad died.   Then in the race we ran through a neighborhood called Eagle Heights, and I could envision the afternoons eating pop corn at my friends’ houses, and then past Carol Fisher’s farm where he drove my mom and kids around on his four wheeler chasing his goats.  All beautiful memories, but somehow in that moment, an awesome thing started to happen.  The day was so glorious!  My body was doing this thing called a 5k, and slowly the memories were being pushed back, replaced by the moment I was living.  Not pushed out, but eclipsed by the sun, the music, the community of healthy alive people, and my own body, able to run this race and NOT BE  THE LAST ONE!!!!!

It struck me then that there was something I should be understanding.  Learning about life, and how it works.  I knew the experience was sacred, but couldn’t put it into words.  It was just a 5k, remember?

Over time I realized that sometimes  current moment can redefine old places and old spaces of the heart. The sun rises every day, and it’s new every morning.

Such was the case this birthday.  It was a new day, no matter my age.  (Make you think of a who is a who, no matter how small?)

I realized only after Saturday night that we were supposed to have had a birthday party for me.  But instead, we ended up at the tennis courts.  Four courts full of people, all packed with kids, grandkids, in-laws and outlaws of Eddie Post (my dad).  He would have loved that.  My three brothers, my husband, but also my son.  Ten years ago?  I had my dad, but I didn’t have a son.  Awesome birthday party.

Then this morning we had a relaxed morning at my sister-in-law and brother’s house.  Later here at home I played Rapunzel with Rosie.  I was Cinderella, and I snuck away from the step mother and had a sleep over with Rapunzel.  As we layed there in the tower of the swingset, her look of love was so pure.  I thought, I have to remember this.  Then John asked me to play tennis with him, and we both were shocked when we hit it back and forth 30 times.  And I’m the one that missed it!  All the while, Adam was working, smoking me salmon for dinner, hiding the sweetest gift.  I was showered with handmade notes telling me how much they love me.  Bouncing bouncing bouncing….sugar, excitement, more bouncing.

Rosie must have made me at least five different things telling me how much she loved me, and John’s gift had a message on the back, “I love you for so many reasons….”

Today is good.  Today is amazing.  Sure I wish they were still babies.  I wish my parents were still healthy.  And I wish that my muscles still acted like I was 30.

However if I had any of that—or all of that—I wouldn’t have the gift that is today.