This is Forty

Thirty Days of Thankfulness, Day 29

The internet is a strange thing, isn't it?  If you're missing someone, you can often access their life with a few clicks.  Of course, it's not their whole life.  You really only get to see what they choose to show you.  We are all made up of our past and our present.  Who we are, in the eyes of others, is how we are remembered.

How do you remember me?

Do you remember when I was the only child in my family?

Do you remember me as a shy toddler?

Do you remember me with goofy faces when I lived in Clio?

Do you remember me with fluffy curls and how I had to be forced to walk down that long driveway from our house to the bus stop when I lived in Muskegon?

Do you remember me with a toothless grin from when I first moved to Flushing?

Do you remember playing softball with me throughout our childhoods?

Do you remember piano recitals, where it was just a very big piano and a very small me on stage?

Do you remember me with permed hair and how much I loved my Flushing jacket?

Do you remember running up and down the court with me, playing basketball against other Big 9 teams?

Do you remember me when my antics earned me the Class Clown title?

Do you remember playing basketball and softball with me at Mott and in West Virginia?

Do you remember me as a bride?

Do you know me only from Twitter, or Facebook, or Instagram?  Or have we become real-life internet friends?

Do you know me as a mom from MOPS?

Do you know me as a mom?

Do you know me as a runner?

Maybe I fit into a few different categories in your memories.  I am a daughter, a granddaughter, a mother, a sister, an aunt, a cousin, a parent, a friend, a teammate, a classmate, a coworker.

I am old enough to say that I remember when Pluto was a planet in our solar system.  I remember when the latest music was sold on cassette tapes.  I remember when telephones had cords, and not for charging.  I remember using encyclopedias to look up information.  I remember going to baseball games at Tiger Stadium.  I remember when watching television required turning a knob on a box to move the antenna on the roof of my house to find a channel.  I remember when the only thing to do on road trips was read, sleep or play the license plate game.  I remember playing outside all day and not returning home until the street lights came on.  I remember when the wait in a restaurant for a table in the smoking section was longer than the wait for a table in the non-smoking section.  I remember when making it across the street in Frogger was something to brag about.  I remember how the dog I grew up with used to smell. I remember my first kiss.  I remember singing on stage on Graduation Day.  I remember cutting the net down after we won the championship in college.  I remember the weekend I met my husband.  I remember those first pink lines on a pregnancy test.  I remember the big and small moments of being a parent.

Today is my 40th birthday.  I've got 40 years of memories stashed away.  If you're reading this, chances are, you are a part of those memories.  When I think back through the years, I can't tell you that all of my memories are good ones-highs and lows are a part of every life.  But what I can tell you, is that the good ones far outweigh the bad.  All of these past memories are a part of who I am now, in the present.   That shy toddler and that goofy teenager and that piano player and that first baseman are all parts that I continue to carry with me.  That's the best part about  life-all the things that you used to be stay with you and as you age you just keep adding more to the list.  I hope in another 40 years I can tell you all of the new things I have learned and all of the new people I have become.  Right now, though, I'm living life in the present.  I've got a hard-working husband, five amazing kids, a growing farm, and the support of family and friends who always seem to know just what I need, and for that, I am thankful.