Happy Birthday to Me!

Today is my birthday. My 59th birthday, to be exact. My body feels every bit of 59 today — and then some! — but my spirit definitely does not. In fact, when I think about the time I have left versus the time I’ve spent living, I’m gobsmacked. There is still so much living that I want to do!

I don’t mean “living” in terms of trips to take or even things to accomplish on my bucket list. Rather, there are still sunrises and sunsets to enjoy. More of my husband’s jokes to laugh at. More kitties to pet. More paint to spread on paper and more words to write.

Always, more words.

This blog is my birthday present to myself this year. I can’t promise that I’ll write every day, or that my writing will ever be interesting to anyone other than me. (Actually, I can’t even promise that it will always be interesting even to me!)

I’ve wanted to write since I was in Mrs. Floyd’s third grade class at Della Ruth Herron Elementary School in Mountain Home, Arkansas. I’d always loved books and got my first library card on my fifth birthday, but I’d never thought about where they came from.

In Mrs. Floyd’s class, we learned to write paragraphs. Mrs. Floyd had stapled each student’s paper to a piece of construction paper and put them on one of the classroom bulletin boards.

It rained that day and we couldn’t go outside for recess. I don’t remember what anyone else did that day, but I read all of the paragraphs; it finally occurred to me that people wrote the books I loved so much. Ordinary people.

I’ve been in love with writing ever since. I’m not much of a storyteller, so the idea of writing fiction is beyond me. And, I’m no poet, either. But I love to share ideas with people.

I think best with my fingers on a keyboard or with a pen in my hand and I feel like I’ve got lots to think about right now. I feel like I’m at some kind of crossroads or pivotal point. Something in my life needs to change, or at least be explored.

Over the years, I’ve filled dozens of journals — hundreds, if not thousands, of pages — with my ramblings. And I certainly could have bought a new journal to capture my thoughts and feelings of being 59 years old. I’m not sure why that’s not the route I decided to go.

For some reason, I feel the need to share this journey. I don’t know if anyone will ever read this website, but writers write. So, here I am.

Happy Birthday to me!