It's almost midnight on the eve of my thirty-fifth birthday. I wish I had something new to wear tomorrow. Or some fancy eye cream. Or a jazzy hair cut. Or an appointment for a massage.
But really, I have absolutely everything I need. I have a beautiful, bright, wacky little girl. I have a kind and smart and helpful husband. I have a tremendous,generous family. And my friends are the most talented, lovely, funny and honest people I've ever met. I love the work I do. I love the town I live in. I am one pretty lucky mama.
I was cross country skiing in the Rattlesnake today. The sky was gray and patchy and sunny and snowy. We made our way to this clearing where the thick trees open and there's this gorgeous view of the river, the rocks, the snowy patches, Hemlock and Fir. The snow fell like soft little white pom poms. The clouds opened and for a few moments the intensity of the sun was blinding. The rock walls were full of stories and height, lines and lives etched across their craggy faces. I remembered the first time I walked on that trail, a few days after we moved here. I had this funny feeling in my belly like, is it okay for people to actually live in the same neighborhood as places like this? How did I get here? It was absolutely dreamy and wild, so surreal and out of what I knew to be true.
And here I am, seven years later. Time is moving at a ridiculous pace. The flashdance tee I'm wearing to bed tonight is one of my oldest and softest. The Moscow Ballet. But tonight I actually read the date. I remember asking my sweet mama to buy me this shirt in...1988. The shirt is over twenty years old. I have been wearing the same tee shirt to bed for over twenty years. Life is so nuts like that. Snapshots and images, dreamy memories, growth spurts and random forks in the proverbial road.
Luckily it still feels like a really good dream most days. I have that moment, that, wow, this is where you live - moment all the time. This is your shining life. Your laughing daughter. Your proud husband. Your little house and valley and creek. This is it.
Not so bad for the ripe old age of thirty-five.
5 comments:
Happy Birthday, Gillie. Can't wait to get this package in the mail . . .love you!
Nuts, indeed. 7 years of good luck since we met. 7 birthday eves to reflect upon.
So glad you're a part of this shiny, special place...that you brought your flashdance, your smiling baby, your awe of slippery snow and craggy rocks.
Thank you. For skiing, dancing, laughing, thinking so splendidly for another lovely year. For teaching me to dance, teaching me to love baths, teaching me how much I'll love being a mama someday, too.
Love you.
No so bad at all, sweet friend. Happy Birthday (birth day has new meaning now, eh?). I am back from Utah and sad to have missed the dance party last night. Hope it was fun. I am sure you rocked it hard.
I so hope I can make 35 look as good as you do.
love love
Gillie, you wrote, “Life is so nuts like that. Snapshots and images, dreamy memories, growth spurts and random forks in the proverbial road.
Luckily it still feels like a really good dream most days. I have that moment, that, wow, this is where you live - moment all the time. This is your shining life. Your laughing daughter. Your proud husband. Your little house and valley and creek. This is it.
Not so bad for the ripe old age of thirty-five.”
Gillie, hearing these words---your fulfillment and happiness at the luckiness your life is (plus the hard work you have put into it, living responsibly and lovingly) is the greatest gift a father can have.
I love hearing your unwavering gratitude that life is----
When I read your words I was reminded of these lines from Gerald Sterns exuberant, splashing all over everything and leaving stains of joy behind poem.
Lucky life isn't one long string of horrors
and there are moments of peace, and pleasure, as I lie in between the blows.
Lucky life is like this. Lucky there is an ocean to come to.
Lucky you can judge yourself in this water.
Lucky you can be purified over and over again.
Lucky there is the same cleanliness for everyone.
Lucky life is like that. Lucky life. Oh lucky life.
Oh lucky lucky life. Lucky life.
Lots of love
from your lucky, lucky, lucky Dad
Here's another post that makes me want to find a reason to move to your town!
Beautiful! But what I like best is how well you are appreciating all of it. Good for you.
And wow, what a stunning post from your dad. I'm blown away.
Happy belated birthday.
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