Happy birthday to me!

Today, I am 34 years old.

One of my most vivid memories from my teenage years was sitting in a class, bored out of my mind, staring out of the window and listening to the ravens cawing outside. And thinking about the future – specifically, the year 2000, and how old I would be then (for the record, old to teenage me was 23!).  Wondering how my life would be, because clearly everything would be perfect once I was older.

Things aren’t perfect.  This last year, in particular, has been a hard one.  I lost my father, dealt with depression and the usual up-and-down of autoimmune illness.  I haven’t written anywhere near as much as I’ve liked to.  Some good friends have moved away, and I haven’t been anywhere near as good at keeping in contact as I’d like to.

But there has been joy, in amongst it all.  The deepening of friendships, of spirituality.  Watching my son grow into a happy, contended toddler who laughs a lot and is always wanting cuddles.  Seeing the rest of my family grow closer.

34 revolutions around the sun.  And many more to come, and hopefully more joy.

Mirrored from Stephanie Gunn.