I might not be thrilled to be moving into and through my late 20s in the next few years, except right now I'm grateful to be on the cusp of marking another year of my life -- a year I was lucky to have, and the beginning of hopefully another full year of everything that makes my life so worth living.
You're not guaranteed tomorrow, and neither am I. All of my tomorrows shimmered and flickered and very nearly blinked out of existence in February. That made me realize just how much I want every one of them. The shitty days, the meh days, all of them! Mine...I'm greedy and selfish and I want every minute I can snatch of time here with the people I love. Getting older is something to be grateful for, because I almost didn't.
All of us almost didn't, at some point or other. I don't know anyone who can't point to a narrow escape, and for those who don't think they can, think about this. Ever see a nasty car accident and think, "If one or the other of them just hadn't been in that place at that exact moment..."? Twist it around. You have no idea how many times you might have escaped death by leaving your house five minutes late one morning or by doing something just so, when it could easily have been different. I know, those things only happen to somebody else. Turns out we're all "somebody else" to someone else.
February could easily have been different for me. It was close. Almost, almost...twice in one day. I could be bitter about the experience -- it was a routine, minor procedure that should have been safe, and then a drug that should have been safe (that I wouldn't have had if the first thing had gone right) -- and I'm sure there are people who love me who still are angry about it. You probably know one or two of them. I was angry for a while. Shocked and shaken and angry.
But then I realized I had it all backward. Things went wrong, very badly wrong. Not once, but twice.
And twice I made it through. Twice I survived, in one day. One day! How many people ever have that happen? Internal bleeding discovered through an emergency operation 15 minutes after the first procedure and repaired in the nick of time, and the generosity of strangers to replace my spilled blood (thank you, all four of you, wherever and whoever you are). Then, a bad drug reaction that took my blood pressure so, so low. I was fading. My body had had enough, too much. It decided to give up the fight.
And here I am.
So when people bitch and moan about getting another year older, they'd better not do it around me. When I hear of people living to 100 and beyond, I think to myself, "How lucky! How blessed!" and who knows? Maybe I will too. Every year that ticks by is another milestone, another 365 (or 366!) tomorrows that life poured into my hands. So many chances to hold my children and kiss their little faces, so many hours of quality time with the man I adore...so many opportunities to laugh and love and grow and learn...piles and piles of tomorrows that I soaked up like sunlight in my soul.
A hundred years is over thirty six THOUSAND tomorrows.
Getting older, having the opportunity to someday grow old, seems like such a privilege to me. I am so lucky to be turning 27 this year! You bet I'll be celebrating. I don't ho-hum things anymore. I'm even wearing a costume this year on Halloween. Life is meant to be lived, and I am, because I am alive.
I am alive! :) Say that to yourself the next time you walk by a mirror. Smile when you say it. I am alive!
