Memories 1: My 23rd Bday

In keeping with the theme of this blog, I have decided to document my 23^rd birthday. I feel like I must preface this entry with disclosing some important information about myself. I am extremely, dramatically, and irrationally nostalgic. It all started about 14 years ago when I was 9 years old. I remember standing at the top of the stairs in my childhood house on Valley Circle and my dad telling me that my time living at home was halfway over. In my little 9-year-old brain he was one step short of handing me an eviction notice. I almost started singing an orphan song inspired by Oliver Twist or little orphan Annie, but instead I burst into tears. I am convinced it was this point in time that my nostalgia took root.

It continued throughout the years as I became acutely aware of the passage of time. In high school, I took a whole week and mourned the end of my childhood. I was very concerned about growing up and leaving the “summer of my youth” (thanks Elizabeth) behind. I also grieved the end of college, the end of my singleness, the end of living in my first apartment with my husband, and selling my first car.

All this to say, that last summer my approaching 23^rd birthday loomed in front of me and I was scared. If you happen to have stumbled across this blog and think it is ridiculous that I am upset about turning 23 just bear with me. I hold onto each season of life so that I can savor and remember it once I am in the next season. Hopefully this is not unhealthy, but the good news is I always have wonderful memories and feel more present in my current state of life because I know the present is where I will form my new memories.

So the day before my 23^rd birthday I was in a major funk. I was lying on my bed in my room crying and Paul came in and was concerned. He listened to me weep about how my youth was flashing before my eyes and how I wasn’t ready to be 23 and grow up. I am done with school, in the working world, and was feeling fearful about everything ending and increasing responsibilities. Paul reassured me that the future was going to be even better than I can imagine and the Lord had great plans for us… blah blah blah. No offense, but I wasn’t in the mood to hear it and was set on wallowing in my nostalgic self-pity for a little longer. Since it was a Sunday night we had to leave to go to his parents for our weekly family dinner. He seemed very eager to get there on time and I was a little annoyed he was rushing me (I stopped to talk to a neighbor).

You can probably guess the rest, we get to his parents and he had planned a surprise birthday party for me (which he later told me he had thoughts of canceling since I was so upset about turning 23). All of our families and close friends were there. I was shocked and blessed. It was touching that Paul had the foresight to plan for a birthday party knowing how I was apprehensive about the big 2-3. He also had everyone go around and share an encouraging word about me. This is a tradition we have done a long time in my family, but it was humbling to be on the receiving end of affirmation. It was well worth it, because the memory of what Paul shared will always bless me. It’s one of those memories you want to treasure because it eased the anxiety of my birthday. It was one of the most wonderful birthdays I’ve ever had. All I have to say is if 23 was this hard, I can’t imagine what lengths he is going to have to go to for my 30^th…