I'm turning 31 in two days.
(Insert string of shocked emoji's right here.)
Shocked because, well, I can't believe I'm going to be 31. I mean, how on earth could I be turning 31 when I still feel like a gal of 18?
Where does the time go?
See, that's the thing about time - the little cliches and quotes are true. Time waits for no one.
Time just keeps ticking along, whether you're ready or not. Whether you're prepared or not. Whether you're paying attention or not.
As a kid, I loved celebrating my birthday. My mom always made sure to make my brother and I feel special, and not just with gifts but with tiny details. She'd make sure to wake up before us and decorate the kitchen with balloons and streamers in our favorite colors.
Silly bits of crepe paper and balloons made me feel like the luckiest kid in the world.
As an adult, I was never a birthday celebration person.
As in, never the type to make big deal about my own birthday. It's just a day. It's just a number. Why make it a big deal?
I can't figure out when or where or why I adopted that mindset, it still stuck to me like glue. That somehow these moments of joy weren't special. They weren't worth celebrating.
A birthday is just a day - what's the big deal?
I lost a lot of people in my life over the past year. People whom I loved. People whom I cared about. People who were there one second, and then gone the next.
No warning. No explanation. Just gone.
Death swooped in, and that was that.
And now, I think about birthdays differently.
There's so much uncertainty in this life. So much unknown. People are there one day and then they're gone the next - so what's the harm in celebrating?
Celebrate a birthday, an anniversary, a job promotion, the holidays.
Celebrate the tiny moments of life that fill your heart with joy, even if it's not some big milestone.
Celebrate each day you get to spend with those that you love.
Work will always be there.
Stress will always be there.
But love and joy - those are things to fight for. Those are things worth celebrating.