40?? 40??

I don't know HOW the hell this happened, but I am forty years old. FORTY. It's so cliche to complain about it, but that's why things become cliche, because we're all running on this hamster wheel experiencing close to the same things as everyone else, right? But this one was a toughie. I have never had a problem with a birthday. On the contrary, I LOVE my birthday! There was little to love about this one. As a matter of fact, I was a downright p-i-t-a about it.
To Ken: "I think I want a party." Next day: "Forget it. No party. Nothing." Three days later: "You know, I think I'd be upset if I didn't have a party." The next week: I don't want anything. No celebration. Nothing." The day itself was lovely. Ken and the kids had many surprises for me and I loved them all.

(I started this entry when I turned 40. I am now a little older than that.)

Since I wrote this, much has happened. First and foremost, Ken threw me a surprise party. It was perfect. Exactly what I wanted. Not too crowded... just local friends. Even though I was hopeful that I would have one and was fairly certain of when it was going to be, as I walked up the stairs I was stunned when everyone yelled "SURPRISE"! There's that gullible side of me. I'll upload some pictures when I get them sent to me (since I didn't have my camera, which was VERY difficult for me)!

With the passage of time the sting of forty has worn off, thankfully, as I knew it would. Fortunately, the sting has subsided regarding many things. For that, I am eternally grateful. Perhaps I sound a bit dramatic about joining this new demographic, but I am not the same person I was a year ago. Time heals. I'm feeling the subtle click of the puzzle pieces again and it feels good. They're not the final pieces, they never will be, but the acceptance of knowing that the puzzle is never complete, is in it's own way, another reassuring click.

Happy Thanksgiving.