Three dozen years

My dad sent me a birthday gift in the mail a few days ago… and the message on the gift slip said, “Happy three dozen, sweetie!” And it kind of made me stop dead in my tracks. And I thought, “Three dozen??? Can that possibly be right?” Three dozen sounds like a lot. Who am I fooling… thirty-six also sounds like a lot.

I can distinctly remember when my mother was 36 years old. I turned 10 years old a month after her 36th birthday. My son turned 11 years old a month before my 36th birthday. And all of that makes my head spin a little. How can I possibly be as old as my mom was when I was 10? (Because, really, I thought she was old back then. Silly me!) And how can I possibly have an 11-year-old child of my own?? Talk about “things that make you go hmmmm!”

But, no matter how impossible it seems… the fact remains that I AM actually 36 years old today. As hard as growing older can be, I’m often reminded that it’s really a blessing. So, today I’m trying to concentrate on the fact that all 36 years of my life have been the greatest gift imaginable… and that I’ve been blessed beyond my wildest dreams. Because, truly, I have. I hope that I’ll be blessed with at least another 36 years!! 🙂

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2 Responses to Three dozen years

  1. Happy Birthday, to one the best people I know. I love you, Momma! Three dozen is awesome!

  2. Tami says:

    Happy Birthday! Thirty-six is just a spring chicken (at least when you’re looking at it from this side). My mother-in-law had an 18-year-old son when she was 36 – now that’s scary! 🙂

    Hope you have a wonderful day and a fantastic year!

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