Today is my birthday. Usually, like any selfish human being, I'm excited about the day because it's finally MY day. Not that anything spectacular has happened on my birthday in many years, but maybe because mommy's give so much of themselves every hour of every day, it's nice to be thought of on that one day a year.
Age has never bothered me either. As my 20's crept by and the 30's came, it didn't affect me at all. Age is really just a number to me. It doesn't have to define who I am. I've always looked younger than I am and I've always, *ahem*, acted younger than I am.
So as my birthday approached and my oldest blessing was a constant reminder of it's soon arrival (which started November 1st because December comes after November which means mommy's birthday...) I gave no thought to the number, the day, or anything else.
Then a few days ago, while being completely wasted tired, sitting up for the XX night in a row (I lost count) with a sick, coughing, baby, I gave thought to my birthday.
This birthday I am turning 35.
35.
Almost to 40.
BUT, I have many friends who are 40ish and are super cool, so being closer to 40 wasn't scaring me.
So... what was the problem??
Then I realized: At 35 years old, 95% of my family on my dad's side had already surpassed their halfway point in life.
Not counting in those who had a huge part in their own deaths, those who died of health reasons were closer to 60 or less. This is no cancer, no major illness or disease, EXCEPT one. Bad hearts.
I was told by a specialist when I was 24 that I would most likely have a heart attack before I was 30, and most likely die of a heart attack by 45. Gee thanks. All of this was based simply on my family history. Between my dad's family and my mom's family I'm pretty much screwed.
Despite that wonderful news, my heart has always been in 100% perfect working healthy order. I didn't have a heart attack before 30, and I'm hoping the same goes for the dying by 45. Even though I've been morbidly obese the past 10 years, my heart has always won the praise of every doctor and specialist.
By the way, let me add in here, as a doctor, you CANNOT tell a person they absolutely HAVE to lose weight for their health and in the next breath tell them their heart is PERFECT. seriously, that gives no motivation to lose the weight.
Growing up, I always felt as if I was going to have a very long life. Considering I barely made it to 20 due to not handling some tough life challenges correctly, this was always a weird thought to me. For some reason I always felt as if God was going to give me many, many years. I would outlive my hubby (sorry, babe), and live to see great grandkids and have a fulfilling life.
But the other day I realized that statistically, I may have already lived well past my halfway mark.
Instead of looking forward to today, I've spent the last few days indulging in self-pity and chocolate chips (which is odd since I'm not a sweets eater). I've felt sorry for my kids and hubby who would, in my mind, live most of the rest of their lives without me. I've let my mind wander off the path of Philippians 4:8 and travel down the thorn ridden path of negative imagination.
At 9:07 tonight I will officially be 35. If I continue down the health and mental path I've been on the past few months, then perhaps my life is more than half over. If I choose to change directions, perhaps I won't even be close to halfway for several more years.
The choice looks obvious and easy.
We'll see.
