I turned 35 on Monday. Same day as Thanksgiving. My father said, “So now you’re middle aged.” I laughed and said, “A-ha you have middle-aged children.” I don’t feel middle aged, not that I know what it is supposed to feel like, but I assumed I wouldn’t get zits anymore, or cold sores. I thought I would feel much older and secure than I do. I thought I would know what to do and what comes next. Lies.
Everytime it is my birthday I begin to think of my mother. The connection is obvious. I think we should change things and on your birthday you should give gifts to others. Especially your mom.
I came across this on Postsecret and started quietly crying at work. I miss her so much.
