Today, three of my friends are celebrating birthdays. One turned 55 and another is 54. I met the older of the two when he was 25 and I was only 15, so it seemed like a huge deal at the time. Now that I'm 45, and we've both had more than one marriage and more than one career, he doesn't seem old to me at all. On the other hand, the one who turned 36 today seems like a real spring chicken. I remarked to him this morning that I was 36 when I was pregnant with Son #3, who'll be nine in August...and it seems like a lifetime ago that he was born. I've really advanced along this continuum we call time.
Good thing I like my life, or else I'd be mighty depressed right about now. On the contrary, it's a delightfully sunny spring day here on Long Island, with a gentle breeze. What a perfect afternoon to take a lunchtime walk around the office building, hearing the orioles sing.
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