confessions of a 50 year old...

this morning i turned 50.  4:14 AM. before the sun met the horizon, i added another candle to my cake.

a few confessions about life & me.

1.  50 sounds old.  i don't feel old.  when i look in the mirror there is definitely evidence of maturity on my face-in my hair-hugging my thighs, so perhaps this is what 50 looks & feels like.

2.  i took my yoga pants to yoga for the first time yesterday {accompanied by our oldest son-he was a sport}. flexibility is a metaphor for my life.  learning to bend & stretch in ways i didn't think were possible.  holding the tension while remaining steady. breathing deep while time passes & relaxing muscles i was unaware existed.  remaining quiet & calm when the world around me is chanting.  me & my pants, we'll go back.

3.  my parents divorced when i was 18 months old.  my dad was absent from my life all my growing years.  he called me when i was 28.  he was arrogant.  i was not charmed.  he wanted to meet his "little darling".  i refused.  a few years later, he died.  i have never regretted not meeting him.  those reality shows are not everyone's reality.

4.  i lived with pjm before we were married.  yes, like in the "sin" kind of way.  for a long time i felt guilty about that.  with all of his sick, and life & marriage cut short, i am thankful for those extra 11 months we had living our daily lives together.

5.  my mom was a champ at raising us girls on her own, but the kitchen was her battlefield.  hot dogs, bean burritos, frozen fried chicken, fish sticks and mac & cheese were her culinary specialties.  i taught myself how to cook.  i love being in the kitchen and creating.  hosting and serving.  baking and sharing.  and my children share in the joy of the kitchen.

6.  sweet brown eyes was named jeremiah by his birth mom.  in the bible, jeremiah is a prophet, speaking out for God and guiding people to Him.  sweet brown eyes' presence in my life as my son speaks directly into my heart, guiding me to focus on God in the middle of circumstances i have tried to pray away.

7.  i swear.  there is nothing feminine or attractive about it, but i swear anyway.  i keep it "clean" in front of sweet brown eyes, but letting those words roll off my tongue just feels delightful sometimes.  and somedays in the very dark honesty of my heart, fucked feels like the best one work answer to describe all of that sick & loss.

8.  i struggle with God.  i have grown closer to him over these past few years, but i wrestle with wanting to ask why, and expecting prayers to be answered on my timeline and with specific outcomes. and yes, i am so very blessed but that does not make the burden of dementia feel less heavy.  and yes, i have an inner strength beyond what i thought was possible, but i long for my old life with pjm when the load was upon his shoulders, not mine.

and what's your confession?