On Being 35

Today I am 35. 

Yesterday Gramma called to wish me an early happy birthday. I expressed my delight to turn 35. She laughed. “Well, that’s good!” she said.

In middle school, I told my friends that, in my heart of hearts, I felt like I was 35. That should be all the information you need to understand what kind of middle schooler I was.

In this picture I am in 4th or 5th grade reading to my cousin Jack. If ever you saw a photo of a child 35-year-old, this is it, am I right?

At the end of my conversation with Gramma yesterday, she said, “35 does seem like a great age. You’re old enough to know what you want and young enough to go do it.”

As I step into 35, I am grateful for this life I get to live. The people I get to love. The words I get to write. To the girl in the photo I say, “Oh, sweet girl, you have arrived.”