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After years of sloth, I am now a mama who runs and practices yoga. I write about exercise; parenting a grownup child as well as two little kids; and whatever is annoying me at the moment.

Monday, March 31, 2014

Turning 46

Last week was busy, with lots of happy things going on. My little M-man turns 5 this Friday and we're hosting a party for him. 

Last weekend I turned 46 and was lucky to be surrounded with my family, including my oldest son, who surprised me Saturday morning in my kitchen by casually strolling in and saying "happy birthday, mom". 

I, naturally, started bawling, I was so happy.

We had such a great weekend. Even as my work phone buzzed and rang all weekend, it was all good.

Not far from us, another family we know faced a terrible tragedy. A friend from college lost her husband, a cheerful, healthy-looking guy who everyone liked. A dad of two who coached baseball. He, too, was 46.

No one should have to be a widow so young. When I think of what has been taken away from her and her grade-school-age kids, it makes me a little angry about why they will have to suffer. They are kind, good, decent people. 

They especially stand out in a world that seems to become more vitriolic the older I get. 

She is surrounded by family and friends--based on the hundreds of people who filled a snaking line out of the visitation yesterday. 

I wish I could think of something truly helpful to say or do. 

It's so unfair.

After the visitation we took the kids to an ice-skating birthday party for one of M-man's friends.

My kids had never ice-skated. It was slow-going and they did great. Dad and I did okay, too! 

As I was on that ice, I thought about Kerri  a lot. 

I promised myself that I would hug my husband a little more. Be nicer. I'm not a warm and fuzzy person but I could try more.

After all, you just don't know how long we get on this planet.

Last night we were pulling together our stuff to get our taxes done. Of course I was grouchy, as was he, and we bickered. 

And then we argued some more about money. (Tell me that there are couples who don't argue during tax season. I will point at you and laugh hard.)

As I ran this morning, I thought of Kerri again. And kicked myself a little for losing my resolve to be nicer. 

So I picked up his shirts from the cleaners and put a load of his laundry in.

My friend buried her husband today. I'm so grateful to have a husband to do these things for.

And yes, even to bicker over money with.




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