Vintage

Death will not come a second before or after God ordained. (But statistically it’s getting closer.) Happy 50th Birthday

Wait, 50? That’s basically dead. “Happy”birthday.
-younger me

Congratulations. You are now older than 65% of the earth’s population. Happy 50th birthday.

50? Maybe cross becoming a professional ballet dancer off the list now. Happy Birthday.

You have your whole life ahead of you. There’s just less of it left now. Happy Birthday.

Half a century has passed since you were born. Read that again and then tell me you’re not old. Happy Birthday!

This is a sampling of my inappropriate “aging” greeting card line. My sister and I have developed several less than tactful but fully hilarious greeting cards for different occasions. We have a Hospice line that’s almost definitely offensive to everyone except us, but humor is how we’ve managed to survive some pretty intense storms.

Becoming older is not a curse, as our popular culture would have us believe. But it’s also fraught with some hardly ideal reality. Fortunately I have a great hairdresser and no one will ever see that cruel twist of gray fate.

To mark the beginning of my second half-century, let’s talk about some things I will never miss about being young (specifically regarding parenting):

I will not miss diaper blowouts-especially the ones that happen in a cloth car seat.

I will not miss being sharply awakened at 2am by vomiting episodes in small children.

I will not miss the last month of pregnancy.

I will also not miss the physical pain of the first month of postpartum. (But I definitely miss the tiny warm fuzzy human that created the pain)

I will not miss the constant struggle of finding childcare so I could work and the mom guilt associated with that whole ordeal.

I will not miss my van that had no heat or air conditioning for 18 months. Oh and no working driver side window.

I will not miss financial insecurity.

These are all things that I experienced when my skin was tight, my body bounced back and my hair was naturally brown, which are all things I have mourned the loss of as time marches on. But what I’ve traded in physically I have gained in every other category, most importantly my faith. He sees what’s inside, and He has walked me through some rugged terrain only to come out on the other side with perspective and wisdom that younger me was not able to discern. I’ll take it. And I look forward to gaining more and more of the attributes of my Creator. I am protected on all sides. I’m covered in the blood of Jesus, which is worth far more than any temporary vanity of this earth. (But also, thank you for the transformative power of hairstylists.)