The husband is 40 today. That means we’ve been together just about half of his life. That is mind-boggling since it seems like we just met a couple of years ago. I find it interesting that we don’t really see ourselves aging. I guess you stay the same on the inside and the outside of you cracks and erodes slowly while life is streaking by in a blur taking all of your attention. Then you blink and your baby is in middle school and your fine lines have turned to crevasses and gravity has become a force to be reckoned with. Some people hit 40 and think this is not what I signed up for and choose a new path. Some people turn 40 and they forget to ponder it because they are in a foreign country and their toddler has tonsillitis and needs to see a doctor. By some people I mean me. So I’m pondering it today, a few years late, for Alex’s sake. I have loved my path so far, if I could freeze the kids and keep them with me forever I would. But I can’t, and when the next twenty years has whizzed by without my consent, they will be long gone. So my wish for Alex, on this fine Friday the 13th, is that he can love this day with its homemade cards and
Before I could finish this, the bombs went off and the bullets flew in Paris. Attacks that are much too close to our loved ones for comfort. Suddenly 40 doesn’t even matter. Courage Paris. This is a long and terrible night and the worst might be yet to come. Xoxoxo
Mamy and Papy – call us in the morning. We love you!