Turning Five
Yesterday a friend shared a story about her grandson turning five. She had found the perfect card and was ready to make mac and cheese and hot dogs for dinner. She asked if we remembered turning five and I laughed. Sixty years ago? Doubtful. But as she described his joy and excitement I began to smile.
He woke up each morning for a week, counting down the days – 4 more days and I’ll be 5 – 3 more days – 2 more – 1! He woke up yesterday yelling, “I’m five today; I’m five today.”
Grandma fixed breakfast in bed for the big boy of five and I’m certain there were balloons, gifts, parties and cake. We marveled at how life has changed.
I began to wonder when that exuberance had stopped. Sixteen was huge as I could drive; 18 took us away from home and parental control; at 21 you can drink (legally). At 30 I felt older than dirt; married with a three-year-old – boring! 40 – was a milestone approached with trepidation. 50 – OMG – I’m no longer middle age! 60 – just shoot me and if anyone dares mention a party I will kill you! No, it has been a very long time since I woke up excited on a birthday.
            As the day wore on I thought more about that darling little boy and envisioned a big-eyed precious face gleaming with joy and jumping up and down on his bed, yelling at the top op his lungs – I’m 5! I’m 5 today!
            Then I asked myself when was the last time I started any day with excitement, anticipation, and joy. When was the last time I jumped up and down on my bed? When was the last time I yelled, I’m 65; I’m 65!  Or how about – I woke up! I’m alive! I can move! I sometimes lie in bed and say a prayer of gratitude or ask God to get me through the day or to take a problem from me and do with it what he wants!
But exuberance? Laughter? Joi de Vivre?
Maybe it’s time to jump up and down on the mattress again. I’m still small and agile and if I don’t fall off and break a hip – it could be a lot of fun!

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