December 9, 2011 ~ Day 365 A Wish At Midnight

A card arrived in the mail from my big brother today... a birthday card.

Printed on thick, luxurious cream colored cardstock almost velvety to the touch is the photo of a baby tilting its head to the left.

The baby is young enough that you can't really tell from the face whether it's a boy or a girl, but the white polka dotted dress with ruffles and flowers give a pretty substantial hint.

My favorite thing about this photo are the baby's big pointy ears and dark shadows under her eyes. She's got an interesting face... not necessarily a beauty, but there's some kind of a glow behind her smile. Looks like someone who could hold a spirited conversation.

When I pulled this card with her picture out of its envelope today, I couldn't help grinning. I've always loved this photo.

I brandished the card in front of my six year old son.

"Who's that baby?"

Glancing at it for a millisecond, he responded without hesitation.

"It's you, Mom."

I started to tickle him.

"Why are you so SMART?!?!?!"

He giggled.

"Don't you think that baby is ADORABLE?????" I teased. "Without her... there would never have been a YOU!!!"

My son dodged the hand ruffling his hair and laughed. "Sure, Mom. You were a nice baby."

He then scampered away to play with the new remote control car that arrived in the mail today, the same car he earned 25 cents at a time doing chores around the house over the past five months. ($40 saved in quarters = approximately 160 chores. The kid has been really, really focused.)

Gazing again at the card in my hand, I tried to remember what it was like to be that baby. I'm not sure how old I was in the photo... maybe six months? It's hard to say because, like my own daughter, I was born a few months prematurely. It took me quite a while to grow into my own skin.

I have no clear memories before the age of five though, not one.

So I don't honestly have any recollection of the burgundy rug upon which my blanket and I were sprawled that day... nor do I personally remember the dress.

If I had to take a guess at the photographer though, I imagine it was my same beloved big brother who sent me the card. I'm guessing this picture bonds us in more than one way, because he was probably the person who snapped it nearly 36 years ago. He takes amazing photographs, and essentially chronicled my entire childhood through his expert, loving lens.

* * *

This photo captures an instant in time, a relationship, and also some essence of me that must surely still be in there.

I look at the baby's serious yet smiling face and I think of how much has happened to fill her tiny head (alas, it's still tiny) in three and a half decades.

Knowing what I know now about the future life that little girl was destined to live - MY life - I think if I could go back in time - I would probably scoop her up and give her a cuddle. Then tickle her and make her laugh, as I did today with my son, because laughter is so crucial.

I wish I'd done a lot more laughing as a little girl, teenager and young adult. Taken life a lot more lightly!

As a mother I do laugh a great deal with my own kids, but even now I think I could use more laughter in my life. I absolutely love to laugh and am so grateful for the wit, silliness and humor that my friends, family and husband bring to me every day. Even before I met my husband, the boys I always adored growing up were the ones who made me laugh.

I have a best friend so close, she's been like a sister to me since high school. We've known each other for over nearly 30 years now. One of the best compliments she ever gave me was to tell me that, despite how shy I am, I can be really funny when I'm relaxed and have got my guard down.

I felt instantly like I'd won an Academy Award. "I'm FUNNY!"

"SHE SAYS I'M FUNNY!!!"

Decades later, I often remind my children about this.

"Well I SEE you boys over there rolling your eyes at Mommy's HILARIOUS joke about pasta... but don't forget, I'M FUNNY!!! Your Auntie D says so!"

"Mom. You and Auntie D are... OLD."

"You're right!!!" I chortle. "Gee whiz, I'm so old it's AMAZING I'm even standing right now. How has my hair not fallen out yet or gone completely white? Thirty-five long years! Where's my cane???"

* * *

Despite what my sons may think right now though, I don't feel old.

In fact, I feel a whole lot younger than I did three years ago with a dying father, pregnancy complications and bed-rest. I may actually be a decade younger now than I was back then.

I'm also younger than I was one year ago today - when I conceived of the 365 day blog project and explained how it would work.

Writing this blog has actually played a large part in making me younger, healthier, happier.

When I look back on this year, so many dreams have come true.

Some I'd planned, some I'd hoped for - and many I'd never even imagined. I feel so much gratitude for these 365 days. It's been a true joy to record them.

* * *

In just a handful of minutes the clock will strike midnight and, like Cinderella's fairytale ball gown, my 35th year will vanish forever into the dark night.

35 has been for me a year of magic and miracles. Despite a lot of transition and some agonizing, terrifying moments - the year turned out to be so profoundly special. It now ranks as one of the top three years of my life... 17, 26 and 35.

(I guess every 9 years, something really beautiful unfolds ~ so I'm looking forward to 44 already!)

For now though, I have a heartfelt birthday wish:

May this coming 36th year be filled with genuine joy and laughter shared by our family - the body shaking, gut wrenching, clutch-your-stomach kind of belly laughs that cause us to wipe away tears... or, in my case (as a woman who's borne three children) race to the bathroom. Which my children do find VERY funny.

May we stay happy, healthy, loving and ready to discover humor in all situations... and may we somehow manage to bring light and joy to the lives of everyone we encounter along our collective journey through this dynamic, beautiful world.