birth days

I have a tall, observant son. For several weeks before my birthday he was observing how pancakes are made: how much of the recipe serves how many people, when to flip, how big to make them. On my birthday, he was up at 6 a.m. I peeked into the kitchen and said something about the oatmeal I had been planning to make, not really noticing what he was doing.

He really wanted to serve me pancakes in bed...but I told him I'd rather eat them at the table. Bed is just an awkward place to eat such things. :) But I was in awe much of the day at my sweet, funny, scientific and heart-led son.

This was a birthday I wouldn't want to repeat. But at the same time, I look in the mirror and see the silver hairs peeking through here and there, and I'm okay with that. I'm okay with the age I am, with the things I'm learning, with the choices I'm making and the gifts I am receiving. I think I am earning these greys, figuring out how to be richer in the griefs and joys of life. And they come along with this 15-year-old, a sturdy, passionate 12-year-old, an 18-year-old finding her way with deep questions and laughter, a strong yet cotton-candy-hearted 21-year-old. I feel blessed. So sad, today, so grateful, so blessed.