It is my birthday and I am all alone. My husband left for work long before I got up and he knows better than to wake me, no matter the occasion.  My son was over for a family dinner on Sunday and my friends have plans for me later in the week, but for today, I am alone, as they say, I got nothing. And I’m ok with that.  No, more than ok. I am happy. There are no more what ifs or I should have. I am happy to be exactly where I am.  I am enjoying looking back and feeling good about what I see. I raised three wonderful children, I am happily married, I have a few really good friends and, thanks to a phone call from my brother I know I have wonderful siblings. So this birthday is about me.  I have the day to myself and I am going to make the most of it.

It’s funny because I know that even five years ago, if I was alone on my birthday, I would not be happy. I would be hurt and of course I would make sure everyone knew it. (which is why I would never be alone on my birthday).  But now at 65, this feeling has been around long enough that I believe it is here to stay.  

Update - In 3 days, I turn 71 and I am miserable. Take it from one who knows. Turning 60, a piece of cake, turning 70, not so much. Seventy is so old. I can’t even remember what I thought about people who were 70 when I was 10. This is another one of those bumps (ok huge pothole) in the road that I have to try and navigate. Tune in.