Today marks my 58th time around the sun.
My age is simply a number.
There is no denying that my birth year sounds further and further away.
However, inside me the little girl, the teenage girl, and the young adult is still there.

As a little girl, it was fun to go down the shore on the day of my birthday.
It was fun to go out for dinner at a favorite restaurant.
As I got older, a summer birthday was never that special when I was in school.
There was no celebration at school on the actual day.

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We have a park bench underneath a clump of trees.
That bench has been there for many years.
My husband even put four pieces of flagstone under the legs of the bench.
He wanted the bench to remain level and not sink into the mulch.

That bench has gotten much use over the years.
It was the place where each July 4th, my husband lit sparklers for our young children.
It was the place from which football games on the lawn could be watched.
It was the spot where a long phone call could be enjoyed under the trees.

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I changed my shampoo.
I wanted something organic with all natural ingredients.
I found one that smelled wonderful; there was also a conditioner as well.
That is the one I bought.

We got all of our bathrooms redone a few years ago.
Instead of tile, my husband wanted to get marble around the shower.
I did not complain since marble is so much easier to clean.
All I asked was that there was a tiny shelf tucked in a corner on which things can rest.

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I had my music on quite loud as I was cleaning.
It was a Jackson Browne, Pandora radio station.
All the songs I listened to in my college days were playing.
Cleaning just seemed to go that much faster.

Song after song brought back so many memories.
I had the albums of many of the songs that were being played.
Song after song was a favorite of mine.
It was as if the radio station had my specific music tastes in mind.

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I have a stack of books next to my chair.
One book has already been read.
Three books are still to be read.
Summer is a wonderful time to catch up on reading.

We have eleven bookshelves in our home.
Each shelf is overflowing with books.
What used to be nice, neat rows now has books lying on their side on top of the others.
There is something so comforting about having books around.

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I am not a puzzle kind of person.
Assembling a jigsaw puzzle is not fun for me.
It takes a certain kind of skill and a certain kind of patience.
However, my children enjoyed all the puzzles I had around when they were young.

We kept the our many puzzles in a bin.
There were puzzles with all levels of difficulty.
Small puzzles for the little ones that could be assembled in minutes.
Larger puzzles for the older ones that took far longer to put together.

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We went to the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta.
Our fifth child was born in November, 1995.
She was only eight months old when all seven of us drove to Georgia in our minivan.
Our little girl spent the entire week in a carrier on my husband’s back.

Since my husband went to Georgia Tech for his undergraduate degree, Atlanta was familiar.
Georgia Tech happened to be where the Olympic Village was located.
Georgia Tech alumni had many special privileges, which we enjoyed.
An exact replica of the torch was there and each of my older children got to hold it.

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I remember when my oldest daughter came home from school one day.
She was probably in third grade.
Her sister would have been in first grade.
My oldest daughter came home and announced that she had to give a report.

The teacher was trying to get the children used to talking in front of others.
Each student was given a topic.
They were to practice the research skills they were learning and write a report on their topic.
That three minute report was to be given in front of the class.

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We were talking about the definition of a word.
My husband was sure he was correct.
You took Latin so you should know, he said.
I never took Latin, I said gently in correction.

You didn’t? He asked quite surprised.
I could have given a know-it-all kind of answer.
I could have said, You should know; we went to high school together.
I rejected that impulse and told him, No, they gave me Greek instead.

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I could see the blinking lights as I approached the intersection.
The blinking lights were not from emergency vehicles.
It was the traffic lights that were blinking.
One direction was blinking red and the other direction was blinking yellow.

Blinking traffic lights happen from time to time.
Except this intersection is one of the busiest intersections near my home.
It is where two state roads intersect.
It is an intersection that drivers must go through to get anywhere around here.

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