Counting My Blessings, Years and Veggies.

Last week, I had this great post drafted up about how recently I have found myself in a really good mood.

Not that that’s too terribly out of the ordinary; but, it just felt like there was this little extra “pep” in my step. 

In the post, I explained that the mood was likely because the garden is finally looking pretty good after the summer of neglect and flooding. My counter tops had been covered in tomatoes, eggplant, and more for the previous ten days and I even got some canning done. This, and that the fact that it was my Birth-week, had made me all sorts of happy.

And, rightfully so.

… Well.

Then Thursday, my birthday, happened.

And, things changed.

I ran an update on my phone and completely lost that blog post I was working on.

I waited much of the morning for a phone call that never came.

This caused me to miss my lunch hour yoga class. Something I normally try to make twice a week; but, especially on my Birthday. A good yoga class is something I have done on almost every birthday in my twenties.

Then, by the late afternoon, it was like every little thing that I was working on had come crashing down.

Those well recognized “frustration tears” were welling back in my throat as I stared at my emails around 5:30. While at the same time, my good friend from grade school, Laura, called to wish me a “Happy Birthday” after the work day.

I was so bummed about everything going that I didn’t have much to say. I even cut our conversation short because I had to focus on a few more things.

An hour or so later, I was in my kitchen chopping up some tomatoes and cucumbers for a little crunch in a very garden veggie packed panzanella salad for dinner. I suddenly became embarrassed.

In that time, I had been able to clear my head of the annoyances of the afternoon. (A little time working with my hands and Champagne helped with this.) And, I realized just how silly- rude, even- that I had been.

I grabbed my phone and texted Laura an apology for being such a grump.

My great friend was so kind. She told me not to worry and wrote “sometimes adult birthdays < child birthdays.”

I got to thinking about childhood birthday’s versus adult birthday’s.

When you are a kid you can’t wait until your big day. Laura and I, along with our other friends, counted down for months leading up to each other’s birthday, particularly the big milestones. 13, 16, 18 and then, of course, the really big one… 21.

The days were full of cake, presents, decorations and fun. Sometimes the day even became a week!

But, when you turn 28?

… On a Thursday?

It’s can become just another day.

And, as Adam came in from the patio with my just grilled eggplant, zucchini and peppers for the panzanella and gave me a quick kiss, I realized I don’t want to live any day like it’s just another day, let alone live that way on my Birthday.  

I am approaching an age where Birthdays can be something that people begin to just ignore or even dread. And, sure these milestones remind us how old we are getting, but they also remind us just how full our years are.

I don’t consider myself necessarily religious, but when I do find myself praying it’s a prayer of thanksgiving. And, in that moment on the first day of my twenty eighth year, I shot one up.

My 28 years have been so full of great gifts, many that I didn’t even do anything to deserve.

My health, physical and mental, allowing me to be active and excel in academics and my career.  The health and stability of my family and Adam’s.  Experiences that have shown me the world and given me perspective to be slow to make assumptions and quick to face challenges.  An internal drive to never settle for the status quo.  More love than I can even put into words from my family, friends and, of course, the great Love of my life, Adam.

I looked out at Adam by the grill tending to the lamb chops I had picked up the previous Saturday at the Farmer’s Market. In my view, I saw that he had left a card on the counter top by a cheese plate I had set out.

I smiled and thought that even though not every moment of every day is great, every day really is a gift.

My phone buzzed.

Laura again.

Her next message, “But, sometimes adult birthdays > kid birthdays #champange.”

I giggled and took a sip. She knows me too well.

I texted back. “Really good friends and husbands help too.”

So, does a really good Birthday panzanella salad full of vegetables from your own garden.