End of a Quarter Century

My twenty-fifth year has come to a close. Happy birthday to me, happy birthday Mrs. P. Happy birthday you old bag... happy birthday to me!

Twenty Five has been a pretty good year. Certainly an eventful year, mostly with good events. Some not great events. Fortunately nothing too disastrous.

In year 25, I bought my first home. I left North Carolina where I'd been calling home for 3 years and returned to Maryland, which had been home for many year prior. After purchasing my home, I started the task of farming. Making a garden and growing my own food. Well our food. Had lots of help with that endeavor. I broke up with my first serious boyfriend since Jonathan's death. I survived the second angelversary. We celebrated many firsts in our home, including our first set of holidays - Easter, Thanksgiving, and soon Christmas. I purchased two rescued thoroughbreds and embarked on making a great home for them. The boyfriend returned and I gave him a second chance. I started riding again. I brainstormed many projects. I started giving light to the thousands of ideas swimming around in my brain (maybe one day they will get to appear here). I rescued a pup. I had my first fall in years and the second set of bone fractures in my life. I broke up with the boyfriend again. I made some new friends. I reconnected with old friends. I had to choose to cut ties with other friends. I went to nine million weddings. And enjoyed myself. I lost and found my book of letters from Jonny. I got closer with my best friend and survived our first disagreement. I went on a couple dates. I did crafts with my daughter. I got closer to my daughter. I grew closer with my parents. I survived another year of toddlerhood. I actually did Christmas cards. I began a healthy eating lifestyle and have been really good at it. I started going back to therapy. I was a crappy blogger. I enrolled my daughter in a mommy and me class. I took chances. I got hurt. I lived another year.

It really wasn't that bad, looking back. I've had ups and downs, but each day brings it's own ups and downs, let alone each year. I'm pretty proud of how far I've come. I feel that age really is making me wiser and I certainly see things differently than I did last year. I'm learning what is important in life and what deserves to be let go. I am finally cherishing life again. Somedays, it's really hard, but I'm doing it.

While I'm really excited to see what 26 will bring me, I'm also struggling with it a bit. Jonathan was 26 when he died. He was 26 and 16 days. Now of course I don't know if I will live another 16 days, but it appears I will outlive him. And for some reason this is really bothering me. I don't want to die in the next 16 days, either, and I don't want the world to end for those thinking about that... it's just... weird. I guess it goes back to if I do age and get old... I don't know... I'll be old and gray and he'll still be 26. And it will have been so long since I'd seen him and he, me... Oi, this is harder to put into words than I thought. I know I'm not guaranteed this and hopefully I'm not writing this prematurely (I'm always afraid of jinxing things too soon, so as a note to the Man upstairs I do realize I'm not guaranteed anything so please don't feel the need to teach me a lesson about speaking too soon...) but it's just something on my mind as I hit 26. I don't know. So, I guess what I'll do is live this year even more to the fullest. And the one after that. And each one I am given. Because life certainly is a gift not to be taken for granted. I'm lucky I've gotten these first 26 years and I hope I get another and another after that. And maybe even one or 2 more sets. I'm not good at math. Did I just put myself at 200? I don't know. You get my drift though? It's late. And I'm officially old and senility has set in. Can't use that as an excuse yet? Damn. Okay... I'll just go with it's late.

Anyway, that's my birthday post. I didn't mean to drag it down so much. This time of year is rough. So dumb. I'm going to bed now.

Semper Fi,
Mrs. P