I woke up just a while ago, looked at the clock and saw that the clock had ticked over into the next day - I'm 50 now. As I lay there thinking back over the past half century scenes from the past flashed through my mind, like a choppy news reel. I remembered a happy and carefree childhood - my treasured pets; playing outside, ranging far and wide on my bike; first childhood puppy love. Then onto my teenage years - some rocky times, but many good times too; my first real love; trips with family; sailing; and the list goes on. My early 20s had good times and bad (isn't it funny how we remember the bad more than the good). Then I met Carm and life started to settle down. We bought our first house; had our first set of dogs; started with the parrots; built our next house; more dogs; horses (a dream for me). Then I got sick. And yet those years of struggle were made bearable, and even good by Carm's ever faithful and supportive preseance.
So I thought of these things and cried. For what I'm not sure - perhaps for what has passed by already. With those thoughts in mind (and still feeling teary) I got out a sparkler, went outside, stuck it in the sand and lit it. With its bright sparkly light I realized that it is good to look back and remember, but only if those thoughts bring renewed hope and anticipation for what is yet to come. And also I realized that all those remembered events and feelings are still with me as they have made me the person I am today. And while I'm by no means perfect, I am content with who I am. I have no real regrets and there isn't much I'd change about how I've lived my life.
Still feeling teary, I was just coming inside when Carm appeared at the door. He always seems to be there when I need someone. There was a nicely wrapped gift on the table waiting for me to open it, with a pretty card attached (pink roses of course). It was a beautiful black necklace, sparkly yet elegant - lovely. We talked for a while then I sent him off to bed so that I could think for a while and get it out of my system. After all, it isn't every day that one passes the 1/2 century mark.