Today is my 38th birthday.  Usually I love my birthday — a day all about me with presents and cake!  I’m a big believer in the miracle of cake (with lots of icing).

But here I am wondering how I got to be 38.  I don’t “feel” 38, whatever that is supposed to feel like. Almost 40…I don’t really feel mature enough, on the inside, to be “middle-aged.” And given that the women in my family usually expire around 80 to 83, then I’m about at the middle of my life.  I don’t feel young, but I don’t feel old, and I certainly don’t feel “middle-aged” — whatever that’s supposed to feel like.

Sometimes I wonder if it is because I don’t have children. Maybe that’s why I don’t feel fully adult (and here I am 38!).  I was 15 when my mother was 38.  I can’t even imagine having a 15-year-old, let alone a 5-year-old, let alone caring full time for a baby!  I wouldn’t know where to begin. At my age, my mother was working 2 jobs, caring for me, and starting a church.  Well, I am pretty busy myself with all I’ve got going on, but…

Is it that I don’t feel like I’m doing enough, or that I feel like I should have done more with my life so far? Will I still feel silly and awkward and unsure when I am 60? And yet, I have done many things in the last 10 years/20 years, things that have generated positive changes in others’ lives and brought people together.  Things that don’t “seem like much” to me, primarily because I did them, but I know that they took a lot of effort and impacted the community.

Anyway, happy birthday to me. Here’s what 38 looks like on me.

And here’s the new kitten that is currently bringing me loads of laughter and joy.  His name is Hermes.