Cake Anyone?

I turn 51 tomorrow. I know I am getting older because I’ve moved the font size from 12 to 14. I look back on the past 12 months—a short 12 months and wonder how it is that time really does speed up. I am very clear in my memories of being 8 years old and how I was even 8 ½ years old for what seemed like forever. I don’t remember any part of the 1950’s but I have lots of memories of "time” starting for me during the early 1960’s. I could almost believe that the changes that have taken place over the last few decades could be a convincing argument that I was born on another planet—some would still agree that I was. Still I treasure most, some memories that now are only written about. Walking to school for kindergarten at the age of 4-- alone—the 6 to 8 blocks would never be safe for a 4 or 5 year old in today’s world. Trick or Treating in our neighborhood where there were literally hundreds of small children out walking the streets collecting “safe” candy without supervision—my Mom was at home passing out walnuts to the Trick or Treaters. I remember being in highschool before the dress code was changed permanently to allow girls to wear jeans to school. I ‘d like to say we’ve only moved in an upward direction but honesty would tell you that all that has changed our modern day world is not all good. Still, I look back on my 51 year history and feel richly blessed. Age and the aging process changes us, softens us, teaches us better I hope, to love each other. I hope I am a better listener, that I have a more gentle heart—I think I cry easier. I’d like to say age possibly even refines us—not just that as I have gotten older I “have” to sleep with a down pillow, or that the Burberry cashmere scarf my sister sent me for me birthday is one of the most heavenly feeling things I’ve had around my neck—it rivals the taste of really good dark chocolate. Amazing to me is that some of this refining doesn’t require developing a taste for—it’s immediate. Some of that refining is reflected in how my heart and eyes see life. My friendships mean more, my relationships with my family mean more, --anyone who knows any of my daughters will know and understand the gratitude that I feel daily for having them in my life. I read their blogs about the little people—my grandchildren-- in their lives and can only smile knowing that the pride I feel for my grown daughters is such a treasure to me. My faith continues to be an anchor and beacon that willingly hones and directs me—I need only listen. So here’s to 12 more months of being 51. My Mom is cooking Sunday dinner tomorrow—cake anyone?