and then...

...I turned around, and I was 55.  Since it was on the fifth, I went out that day and ran 5.5 miles.  I am a number nerd and it felt fun to do that. I generally like to celebrate my birthday, and everyone else's, too, for that matter, but this year I'm fine with postponing the cork popping and getting right back into the all-consuming work of selling my house, packing to move, planning for travel soon.  My sweet Everett and his momma and daddy did come over.  They had practiced the whole way over so that Everett could tell me, "Happy Birthday!"  But when asked to perform his new trick, he preferred his old trick of hitting me with the full force of his big blue eyes and asking, "Cookie, Momma Juwie?"  He knows I've got the good stuff.  Son Seth came over to bring me my favorite candy and give me a hug.  We both decided that we were tired of being adults this week, and yet soldiering on is really the only option.  Didn't think I'd be where I am this time last year, but here I am.

I heard a story on NPR this morning about their new book blog, and some of the top books staff had read this year.  One of them was "A Gentleman in Moscow" by Amor Towles.  I just happened to be reading this book now and I am loving it so much.  I love the main character, the Count, and felt a connection with him despite the difference in all things--time period, country, lifestyle.  I was pondering this connection when the interviewer mentioned a review of the book which described the Count as having "a will to joy."  And therein is our commonality.  I, too, have a will to joy, a deep abiding pool of happiness at my center that pulls me up and out of all the mud that life has slung at me.

Oddly enough--but not all that oddly, since my life often tends toward synchronicity and coincidence--I got a message from a friend just after the NPR story which asked, simply, "Are you happy?"  And very honestly, I can say yes.  I am happy.  Not in all ways.  Not every minute.  I am sometimes immobilized by sadness, a sadness that wells up and wails out of my throat like the coyotes I hear at night around my soon-to-be-past home. Yet, again, I didn't think I'd be HERE now, but here it is and here I am and yes, I am happy.




Comments

lee said…
How did I miss this? So many years ago.

Doesn’t matter. I found it tonight, when I couldn’t fall asleep.

Popular Posts