Why 51 Is No Problem Mon

Last year at this time I was in Las Vegas with my then-boyfriend and my Dad, celebrating the big five-oh.  Despite the place and the company (and the very special gift, which had been my mom’s), I was not happy about turning fifty.  It was actually the only birthday that had ever bothered me, but bother me it did.  Somehow fifty seemed the “other side” of midlife… and it created a bit of a crisis for me (at least in my head, and in saying the word ‘fifty’ for about six months).

The next day we flew off to Cabos for my then-boyfriend’s 52nd birthday, which didn’t bother me at all.  In fact, I was relieved to focus on someone else’s age for a day.  

Today I turned fifty-one.  I am in Jamaica with my now-husband.  Tomorrow he turns fifty-three.  How do I feel turning fifty-one? No problem Mon.  It’s cool.  Irae.  I’m past fifty and I have a very long time to go until I have to face the big six-oh.

So far I have had three pieces of birthday cake bestowed upon me, and a very loud singing of “Celebration” (I know, the world’s worst song) at dinner last night.  “Celebration” Caribbean-style is not nearly as scary as it is at a wedding or a bar mitzvah, and the entire restaurant was clapping and singing along by the end.  Who knows what tonight’s dinner will bring (my “real” birthday).

Who knows what tomorrow night will bring? My husband’s birthday.  

The sun is shining.  The beach is beautiful.  The sky is very blue.  There are palm trees everywhere.  

Happy birthday to me,

Happy birthday to me,

Happy birthday dear me,

Happy birthday to me.

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About mallorylayne

midlife mom seeking meaning for the rest of her life.
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