I turned 38 yesterday. Thirty-eight is such a random, unimportant, insignificant number. No major milestones are associated with it, no big parties with banners saying you’re now the big three eight. Nothing fun. Bo-oh-ho-ring.
When I turned 28, I got engaged. I became editor in chief of a new magazine. I had a new chapter of my life ahead of me. I knew what was in store, what was expected of me, what I expected of myself. Ten years (I can’t believe it) later and I am in a totally different place. Life is in flux. New lives, brand new, very special lives are now at the center of my being. I have a vague idea of what is expected of me (be a good mom, good wife, good everything), but I have no idea what is in store.
Yesterday was Easter Sunday. A new beginning. The promise of new life, of hope, of miracles, of selflessness, of love. It is not a coincidence that I celebrated my special (insignificant number though it is) day on Easter Sunday. There is a message in here for me. God is definitely telling me something. And although I have no idea what’s in store, I’m ready.
So ready that I even made a black-out poem about it. Well, I tore out a page from an old book that I bought ages ago and never finished, looked for words that spoke to me, and used a black marker to black out the words I didn’t need — putting together what I call my Easter birthday poem. I think it’s pretty fitting. Though my age is boring, this year is going to be anything but.
An Easter birthday poem
against the heart
Act wait listen peer
See beyond reflection
Spring to life
More than the border
Gazing out fly up