39 Years Old

My senior year in high school we purchased memory books; a place to document our high school facts and aspirations. My book contained photos and dreams of a young and naïve girl. A future goals page had me married at 22, looking like Christy Brinkley wearing Calvin Klein jeans and sporting very large hair. Thankfully, my life did not turn out as I envisioned it in 1989.

My dreams in high school did not occur how I planned and today, at 39 years old, I am grateful. The life planned at 17, guaranteed gifts of jewelry, luxurious vacations, a perfect marriage and a Volvo station wagon in the garage. Life at 39 is much different.

Today, we re-enrolled my 14 year old daughter in a school we withdrew her from 8 months ago. Humbled and embarrassed by our lack of parental wisdom, Bryan and I came to terms with our pride and did the right thing for our child. This morning, Grace and I entered her prior school and a Posey of Freshman jumped and screamed, saturating her with hugs. Tears swelled in my eyes; she was home.

Arriving home from work, I was greeted by my own Posey; the Strader Clan. My children had cards than needed opening, and a large present lay wrapped with a red bow. Wednesdays are busy in our home. Clay has soccer practice and I am usually fixed to the computer editing my paper for my Thursday class. Although today was my birthday, the tasks remained the same.

We had a quick family dinner at Skyline and rushed home to open my gift before Clay was off to soccer. There was no jewelry this year. I received rubber car mats for my mini-van wrapped beautifully in paper bag stapled on each end. The card from Bryan was sweet and I probably wouldn’t have noticed it was an anniversary card, except Bryan crossed out anniversary and wrote birthday above it. Then Clay attempted to give me $10.00 from his wallet for my birthday gift, because he forgot to buy me one.

As I write this, my husband, who thoughtfully crossed out anniversary and wrote in birthday, is reading to my son as he does every night. My daughter is picking out her outfit for tomorrow and is beaming for the first time in months. I am 39 years old, with crow’s feet and new age spots that show up daily. We cancelled our luxurious vacation to send Grace back to private school, and I do not own one pair of designer jeans. However, there is a Volvo and a mini-van (with new car mats) in my garage. I’m 39 and couldn’t ask for more.