Live like a tulip
All of my tulips are gone. I can’t believe how much time I’ve waste being sad about getting older. I’m 42, and just 6 months before, I believed 41 was the new 91. Spending too much time worrying about this and that. Too much time wishing I could have changed so many elements of my life.
I could have went straight to college after high school and not waited until my 30s. I could have chosen a better husband the first time-avoiding a divorce and no loss of time with my 2nd. Or I could have stayed in corporate American, retired and died.
Then I realized: What the hell was so exciting about any of that?
I’m happy with every single choice I made in my life. What’s more, I couldn’t change anything in my past if I wanted to. No need to obsess about the “could have been”.
Moving forward was my only option. We all have that choice.
God willing, I have at least 40, maybe 50, years to live!
Whew! It’s not over after all.
The fat lady hasn’t sang.
My five-year-old grand-daughter said to me (on my birthday, April 12), so pleased with herself, in innocent wide-eyed optimism, “I’m about to be five.”
Thrilled with her own aging. Equally enthusiastic about mine.
When did I stop celebrating life and start looking at anniversaries of life as a prelude to aging and unavoidable death?
I’m now sure.
Whatever bewitching overtook me- the spell is broken.
Tulips come each spring, blessing us with their beauty and grace. nothing compares. then without warning, they’re gone.
But only for a short time.
They rise again, stronger more beautiful than ever. They rejuvenate and bloom again.
I’m living like a tulip.
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