Speak Eagle

Another Happy Birthday

I awake at 6:45am on my birthday to an itty bitty person crawling into my bed and snuggling next to me. I wrap my arm around him and smile. He looks up at me quizzically. “Mommy, you have lots of eyelashes next to your eyes. What are those?”

I reach up to feel what he’s talking about.  Lots of little lines.  Ah, yes. “Those are Mommy’s wrinkles.”

He crinkles up his chocolate brown, little boy eyes. “Do I have wrinkles next to my eyes, too?”

I finger his itty bitty lines. “Yep.”

“How many?” he asks.

“Let’s see,” I count, “one, two, three. Three wrinkles.”

“How many do I have?” I ask him.

He doesn’t even try to count. “Lots.”

Sigh. That’s what I thought, too.

I think we are done pointing out things around my eyes. But then he spies the corner of my eye, you know, that spot between your eye and the bridge of your nose. “What’s that brown stuff in there?”

“Those are Mommy’s circles.”

Okay, can we be done now? This was not quite the way I envisioned waking up on my 42nd birthday.

With a blossoming age spot on my cheek, I have been starting to feel self-conscious about my age.  It doesn’t help that my 8-year old said I could only come have lunch with him at school if I would color my hair. I put on a ball cap instead.

In our American culture, I know very few women who are proud of their age and don’t fear getting older. I truly want to be one of those women. But on mornings like this, I feel the fear creeping into me. As if it’s all downhill from here- with a little help from gravity.

But then I remember a luncheon last week. A luncheon where I sat with women who were cancer survivors. When one was asked how she was doing, she beamed, “I’m alive!” Another grinned, “I just turned 60 last week!”

There was no shame in getting older, only celebration. Because another happy birthday meant they had experienced another year of LIFE.

Suddenly my bedroom door flies open and little boys and their daddy sweep in with a breakfast tray of orange rolls and bacon and omelet and orange juice singing, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear mommy, happy birthday to you!”

I’m showered with kisses and flowers and handmade cards. They happily dive into my birthday breakfast, gobbling up the orange rolls and bacon and drinking all my orange juice. Mommy's 42nd Birthday Breakfast(Thankfully, my husband has put lots of veggies in the omelet, so it’s all mine!)

My heart is full to bursting with the blessings God has given me. I smile. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

And if smiling causes wrinkles, by the time I’m 80, I should have a million eyelashes.

“Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she smiles at the future.” Proverbs 31:25

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2 thoughts on “Another Happy Birthday”

  1. Thank you soooo much for being Heidi. I think of you and your family often and the courage, strength and faith you demonstrate for your sweet boys. You are on of the best WOG’s I know! aka Women of God. Love ya Dear One!
    Jean Hevel

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