Thirty-Seven

I forget a lot of things.  Where is my phone?  What time are we supposed to be at the soccer game?  What was the name of that gentleman we met yesterday?  Where did I put the mayo? Shoot, I needed to buy milk at the grocery store.  How do I get to fourth street?  Are these clothes in the washer clean or dirty? I know I’m supposed to single space after a period, but I can’t remember to do it.

Really, the list goes on and on.

Some things, though, I remember. I remember the day my Dad turned 38.  I remember the very first time I saw Chad on campus.  I remember the time when my brother jumped out from the crowd and ran beside me during the final tenth of my marathon. I remember handing the relay baton to my teammate after running my leg of the 4×800 during the state meet my junior year of high school.  I remember the day years ago, when a receptionist at a doctors office looked at my birthday and said, awww, you’re 25. . . I remember being 25. . . I miss being 25.

It’s funny the things our minds choose to hold onto.  The information we retain and the feelings that impact us.  Why do our minds hold onto one thing and discard another?  Why are some moments cemented in our hearts while others are lost in the sea of forgetfulness?

I’ve never forgotten that very brief interaction I had with the receptionist at the doctors office.  I remember returning to my seat to wait for the doctor and thinking to myself how sad it would be if 25 is as good as it gets.  I remember thinking that I hope when I turn 26 or 35 or 49, that I don’t look back wishing for what was.

I turned 37 this week (a HUGE thank you to my awesome husband who managed to secretly hi-jack my blog again after a very long day assisting me shooting a wedding) and it only seems right to bid 36 good-bye with a proper blog farewell.

Thirty-six was good.  I don’t long for 25, nor do I long for 38 or 46.  I’ve found the beauty in today.  In right now.  As the saying goes, “the more I learn, the more I realize how much I don’t know.”  I am certain that I could fill the universe with all that I don’t know and all that I should know.  Just yesterday, Chanelle expressed that she didn’t want Daddy to join us in the trivia game because he’s smarter than Mommy and we can beat Mommy by herself.  There is so much I don’t know.  But still, the older I get, thing things I do know?  I know them more.

What I know. . .

1.  Coffee is good.  Coffee is essential, even.  Every. single. Day.

2.  Friends are important. Vital.  Girlfriends breathe life, inspire, teach, comfort, and challenge.  This year I learned, or relearned, how incredibly important it is to keep my girlfriends close.

3.  It is always, always worth it to take time to breathe deep, feel, take in a moment.

4.  It’s okay to be who you are.  Who I am.  I am a feeler.  I cry.  A lot.  Happy tears, sad tears, nervous tears, overwhelmed tears.  I’m not afraid of it, ashamed of it.  God made me this way.  It’s okay to cry, be vulnerable.  Be human.  And as long as it doesn’t block me from moving forward–tears are a beautiful thing.

5.  A mess is worth the memories it makes.

6.  It’s okay to have questions.  To ask questions.  To ask unanswerable questions.  Sometimes, the beauty is in the questions–in the unknown. . .

7.  Family matters. Family matters more than anything.

8.  Gratitude is medicine for the soul.  The expression of gratitude can be medicine for another’s soul.

9.  My word matters.  Saying what I mean and meaning what I say matters.  My word is what I have to give.

10.  “I love you” cannot be over-used.  (Despite the fact that that say I say it allllll the time.)

11.  I will be scared at every transition.  New things petrify me.  Stepping outside of my comfort zone puts me close to a panic attack.  Still, I’ve never regretted a thing.  It’s okay to do things scared.

12.  Different is beautiful.

13.  The sunrise and the sun set are always worth chasing.

14.  Our stories matter.  The beautiful and the ugly.  The joyful and the difficult.  Our stories matter.  Telling and retelling our stories matter.  They make us stronger.  Better. Wiser. Our stories are who we are.

15.  Dreaming matters.  The dreams may never play out like we hope, but the process matters.  Finding your passions and following them matters–even if those passions never produce a paycheck.

16.  You shouldn’t leave a three year old alone with hair cutting scissors.

17.  Class never, ever, ever goes out of style.  Along with integrity and honor.

18.  If I could only teach my children one lesson in this life it would be this:  don’t be afraid to laugh at yourself.  Don’t be afraid to make mistakes and find the humor in it.  Don’t take life too seriously.  Enjoy it, laugh, LIVE a beautifully imperfect life. (Was that more than one?)

19.  LIFE: Trust the process, trust the process, trust the process.

20.  Twenty-five was good. . . 37 is better.

Birthday’s are worth celebrating. . .

Happy Friday, Friends.