Friday, October 10, 2008

The Big 4-5

by Lisa Curry

Yesterday, October 9, was my 45th birthday.

I didn’t like turning 40. I didn’t like turning 44, either. In fact, I believe that last year at this time, I wrote what I titled, “Bad Birthday Blog.”

But to my surprise, I’ve found that I like being 45. I like it very much, for reasons I can’t quite explain.

Being overloaded with projects to the point that I’ve had to work the past two weekends, I couldn’t take the day off work. And because my sons had midget football practice and a school open house in the evening, I couldn’t do anything after work to celebrate. My husband is making a cash contribution to my new-washer-and-dryer fund for my birthday, so I didn’t have a gift to open, either.

Despite being just another day in that sense, my birthday had its share of special moments. My co-workers surprised me with two cakes and a peach pie for a birthday dessert after lunch. I had a piece of all three. My husband gave me a birthday card that made me laugh. And my firstborn made me a card with the number “45” handwritten all over the front of it in multi-colored magic marker, because the Hallmark store didn’t offer a single card especially for someone who’s 45 – a fact which seemed to surprise him.

All day long, I kept thinking about being 45 and smiling. It seemed like a milestone, like a significant birthday. Like I’d achieved a whole new level of grownupness. Although I must confess, when I said that to one of the co-workers who bought me a cake, he replied, “Lisa, let us not confuse age with maturity,” which made me laugh. Then he added, “And by the way, I don’t think ‘grownupness’ is a real word.”

Well, of course it’s not, but that’s how I feel. I’ve reached an age at which I think maybe, finally, I know who I am and what I want. And what I want is what I have – a good job doing work I love with people I truly enjoy, a terrific husband who makes me laugh every day, and two kids who are smart, good-looking, athletic, and haven’t quite yet reached the stage of odious adolescence. What more could I ask for?

I’d venture to say that 45 is my favorite age so far.

What’s yours, and why?

5 comments:

Joyce said...

Happy Birthday, Lisa!

My favorite birthday was 50. I have no idea why, though. Maybe it's the reaction I get when I tell someone my age--they must think I look younger than that. I'd like to think I do!

Annette said...

Happy Birthday!

I suspect where you are in your life is more important than the number, as you already mentioned.

I liked 40. Got some great cards. Hallmark does sell those. Next summer, I'll be hitting 5-0 and I'm not sure about it yet. I'm still eyeing it suspiciously from the distance of several months. Maybe how I ultimately feel about it will depend on the cards I receive. (hint, hint)

Reporting from Baltimore...

Gina said...

I kind of liked those milestone years - 25 and 50. The ones that divide easily into a century. It gave me a sense of accomplishment to reach a quarter or half a century. I threw myself a party for my 50th, too, and that was kind of fun because I did it as an open house and invited just about everybody I knew -- not formal invitations, but a flyer announcing the date, place and event.

Wilfred Bereswill said...

Happy Birthday, Lisa. I barely made it on time.

Dana King said...

Happy belated birthday. I dug forty-five a lot; even wrote an essay about what a cool how much I liked it.

52 is a good one, too. As for a favorite age, I always aspire to the age one number greater than my current situation. I like to look forward, but keep my dreams manageable.