Forty and Fabulous

Tomorrow I will turn 40. That's right. On March 5, 1969, I reportedly entered this world kicking and screaming. And I haven't stopped since.

I am a person who always has loved my birthday. For someone who is a center-of-attention kind of girl, what could be better than having a whole day that's all about me?

However, this year, as the anniversary of my birth rapidly approaches, I find myself having some feelings of uneasiness. It's not that the number 4-0 scares me. After all, I still feel young and healthy. It's more about the fact that, as I creep ever so slowly into those middle-aged years, I am finding myself face-to-face with more sadness, more tragedy and more, well, reality. And I hate it.

This last year, I lost two friends tragically: one to Lou Gehrig's disease and one to a terrible accident. In the past month, I've had two friends diagnosed with cancer. And just this week, I've learned about several people who have lost their jobs.

I suppose it's not actually the fact that I'm aging that is bothering me. It's all of the struggles and misfortune I hear about more regularly now that makes me scared. If so much unexpected adversity is happening to others in my life, who's to say that something terrible couldn't happen to my family or to me?

Suddenly, with my 30s rapidly fleeing, I am much more keenly aware of the fragility of life. When I was in my 20s and early 30s, I simply didn't give much thought to when or how my life could end. I was too busy with my friends and family; too busy enjoying life as I knew it; and lucky enough to not have had any significant misfortune. Yet, as the years turn into decades and those around me slowly become victims of what was once the unthinkable, I realize that I, too, must come to terms with the uncertainty of the future.

The thing is, I'm not quite ready to do that.

And so, with my birthday less than 24 hours away, I'm going to try to focus only on the positive and forget about the fact that there is much unknown out there. I am the mother of two beautiful daughters. I have a wonderful, loving husband who has been by my side for the past 20 years. I am healthy and in shape. And I don't have any wrinkles or stretch marks!

As cliché-ish as it sounds, I guess I need to just be thankful for what I have.

At times, I find myself wondering how many years still remain in my life. Although, if I try to live each and every day as though it were my last, then, does it really matter? This year, I have made a huge effort to try to smile more, be friendlier, meet more people and spend more quality time with those I love most. It's not that I think I'm going to die tomorrow. It's that I want to make sure I make the most with however many hundreds of years I have left.

I wish I could say that tomorrow is just another day for me. But the reality is it's not. It's my 40th birthday, and it's a special day. Thus, to celebrate, I've bought myself a present. Tomorrow I'll be wearing a shirt that I designed especially for me. It's a long-sleeve, black V-neck shirt that says "40 and Fabulous" in bright bold colors. If wearing that reminds me that I'm still active and healthy, and a major player in this game we call life, then all is good. And what could be more important than that?