I remember my 40th birthday vividly. The reason is that it was the year my first son graduated from high school. I was a homeschool mom, and so it was a very strange time. There was a graduating class of ...one. We were taking him on various trips throughout the year to visit potential colleges. I was fighting melancholic moods throughout the spring. So the truth is that my 40th birthday was memorable in that it was pretty much a non-event. That same son had a pretty cool 40th birthday a couple of years ago in that his younger brother flew down from Ohio for his party. And my daughter was thrown a surprise 40th birthday party a week ago here in my home. What is especially notable about these two events is that they happened to my children. My children. That is what I am having to process at this point. Two of my three children are in their 40's. Chew on that tough piece of jerky for a while.
There is a story my older sister tells of when she turned 30. Our dad was giving her a hard time about turning 30, and she made the comment to him about the fact that he was the one with a 30-year-old child. My daughter's party was actually held two weeks before her actual birthday, due to several factors, not the least of which was that it was a really good way to surprise her, another that her actual birthday is the day before Easter this year. So today, I actually bought her a birthday card. The ones that were poking fun at her for turning 40 were ironically not all that amusing to me. I'm the one with a 40-year-old daughter, after all. If she is old, good grief, what does that make me?
When my kids were tiny, and I mean that I had three under the age of five, there was an older lady in our church who said to me, "These are the best days of your life. You're going to want them back one day." I have to be totally transparent here and confess that I thought she was either lying to me or just crazy. Because at that particular time in my life, at any given moment I was most likely covered in one or more of the most disgusting human bodily fluids ever. And every one of them stunk. If one of my adorable offspring was not leaking from one end, they were spewing from the other. If it wasn't on my clothes, it was on my hands or God help me, in my hair. And it was the 80's people, I had a lot of hair. When this sweet paragon of spiritual wisdom dropped this tidbit on me, I thought, "If this is it...If these are the best days of my life, then I am done. If it only goes downhill from here, I don't think I can do it."
Time, however, has a way of blurring the edges somewhat. The memories of those times are of laughter, snuggles, and really, really good times. They were, if not the best, some of the best. I did do it, in case you were wondering. I didn't leave the messy, smelly little creatures to figure it out on their own. Rather, I wiped their noses, changed their diapers and changed the sheets after the horrific stomach flu. They actually cleaned up rather well. They made it through elementary school, surprisingly without any real long lasting physical damage.
The strange part about me came with junior high and high school. My favorite times, in spite of puberty. We had so much fun. Homeschooling gave us so much freedom. We did school in the morning, and had the afternoon for exploring, playing, and socializing. We traveled as a family and redeemed the time. It was the best of the best times. And all of that while I was approaching my 40's. My 40's was spent with my kids in teens and college years. Getting married and starting families. Oh, yes. The greatest of all the best times yet.
My oldest son didn't get married until he was 28, and at 42 his oldest child is only 11. So, my educated guess is that he will most likely be 50 before he's looking at a wedding. But my daughter, at 40 has a 17-year-old daughter. There is every likelihood that she could have the most rewarding experience of her life in her 40's. The youngest, who is turning 38 this year, has a daughter turning 14 this year. His 40's will be awesome, trust me. Me, in my, ahem, early 60's let's say, get the optimistic outlook of being around to see all that take place.
So, back to that little old lady giving me that nugget of wisdom. These are the best days of my life. All of them. Watching my children grow up in the admonition of the Lord, being fruitful in every good work, and reproducing in their children what we poured into them. Would I go back to that little house with those three preschoolers? Maybe, but only to tell that young mom with the spit-up on her shirt, and the tired eyes and the stained carpet, "You're going to make it. And these kids are going to be awesome!"
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