I turned 42 last month. At 42, single, no kids and the closest relative living 3,000 miles away turning 42 was just another day. And that's okay.
Comforting actually... to reach a point where I can say "that's okay" and mean it deep within my bones. At 32, there were still people to rally around. At 35, there was still the glimmer of hope.....still looking forward to the dream and living for the future. At 38, there was reality - lots of reality that perhaps there are different dreams to be had. At 40, it began to settle in and the urge to fight my life began to subside.
So by 42, I can look at my slightly lopsided curtains and say "that's okay" knowing I gave my absolute best effort to hang them properly.
At 42, try as I may week after week to open that jar of pickles I can finally throw it out realizing the expiration date is 2012, some things aren't meant to be. I don't need pickles on my sandwich and "that's okay."
At 42 there are less and less people around and more time alone....mind you not lonely...but definitely alone. You meet people, you form a connection but then life gets in the way....even of the best intentions.
So when one my best friends called this week to schedule a long overdue lunch, that in and of itself was a true delight.
Today was that lunch. And she walked in with a bag with tissue paper poking out the top. The bags that signal something good is inside. I still get slightly uncomfortable seeing those bags once I realize they are for me. I've never been good at the gracious thank you of someone's generosity aimed at me...it still surprises me and catches me off guard.
Inside the bag was a key....GRATEFUL. And as she told me the story of the key, its purpose and her reason for picking it for me it was all I could do not to cry.
And she is correct....by 42 I am grateful.
Grateful for her friendship and the attention, time and thought I am given by those near and far.
Grateful I can say "that's okay" and fully mean it.
December 08, 2015