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  • Writer's pictureKim Catron


I turned 51 today.

I will now need to live to be 102 to be considered middle age.

I came across this Facebook post today from 2 years ago when I was reflecting on being close to hitting that half a century milestone that I have now passed. It's still fitting, so I thought I'd repost it.

Here it is:

I turn 49 tomorrow. I know most people wait to reflect until the big one, but over the past few months the brevity of life seems to be continually on my doorstep, knocking to remind me that we only get one. Lately, I find myself noticing the wrinkles on my forehead, the slight appearance of a jowl along my left jawline, the neck of an-almost-old woman in the mirror, and the way my stomach collapses over itself when I sit. Try as I may to embrace it, I am failing. What I haven't accomplished, in my mind, far overshadows what I have, even though I know that isn't my true story. I applaud those who can view this age process differently. And so I've decided to list 49 things for which I am grateful-experiences-that have made my life abundantly full and mine: for Jane Eyre, Dickens, and filled bookshelves; for Don Mclean's American Pie; for Davy Jones with those stars in his eyes when I was six; for all the bubble gum pop; for 2B charcoal pencils and album covers painted on walls; for games of neighborhood tag and sleepovers on summer nights;for secrets and dreams seen fulfilled and those left incomplete;for ballet slippers and batons;For eccles cakes at 7am; for sundown margaritas and inflatable couches; for Cadbury from England and a mouse with a castle. For convertibles and diet Coke with metal straws; for the Eagles.For toes in the sand and the waves of ocean; for the sun on my skin; for lakes that speak of God's infinite peace and rocks that remind me of his steadfastness. For trees that change with the seasons; for the smell of pine and the look of birch; for cabins and for mountains that rise against the sky; for the first snow fall and the earliest bud; for daffodils and tulips and green grass. For gates to enter and to leave, for pastures to cross and ruins discovered; for old houses and cobblestone roads; for legs to walk me there; for laughter around the fire and the quiet of the stars.For a space of one's own and words to fill pages;for the desire to Be Still and for the need to move. Happy birthday to me. I am blessed.

My 50th year was the year of Covid- an easy way to remember it. The world masked up and shut down. It certainly made me not think about my age. I won the contest that will now publish my novel, everyone I know and love are still here and healthy even after bouts of the virus. My children are thriving and finding their ways into their future, and by the fall my husband and I will be empty continues to change but one thing does stay the same. No matter what stares back at me from my mirror...Happy birthday to me for I am TRULY blessed.

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