40

I love my birthdays. It is MY special day, better than all the other 364. It has something to do with my "love language" and how I love gifts - not the gifts themselves, but what the gifts mean to me - that the gift-giver cares about me.

However, this year is different. This year, I have dreaded my birthday, knowing it marks a passage of time in my life and perhaps represents the loss of what I have wanted most in my life. Women, unfortunately, have what we refer to as a "biological clock" that feels at times more like a ticking time bomb to the end of child-bearing years.

Yeah, that's how I feel about it...

I have a friend who turns 40 just a few days before I do, and last week I was looking for a card to mail to her. The one I found has helped with a recent attitude adjustment. I wouldn't go so far as to say I accept my age, but at least I can find some appreciation for it.

This is what the card said:

"Forty is knowing what you want and making it happen...
Forty is learning from the past and moving forward with strength and confidence...
Forty is old enough to know better and young enough to do it anyway...
Forty is a wonderful place along the pathway of your incredible life."

Thanks to the card company for helping me to see that being 40 is not all bad. I am going to look back on the last decade of my life and try to appreciate rather than lament.