may you age well
Of all the things that I wish for you, I hope that you age well. I hope that with every coming year, happiness is easier to get to, peace is harder to lose, and your problems are better than they’ve ever been.
As time passes, I hope that you look at yourself in the mirror and see stories and adventures rather than pounds and wrinkles.
When you feel alone, I hope you remember long walks or calls when you lost track of the time. I hope you savored the incandescent moments when friendships sparked. I hope you trust that the universe will always send help your way.
I hope you remember not the chapters that ended, but the sweet coffee-like aroma of starting over time and time again. As Rumi suggested, I hope you learn to let go of half-loves to take one whole heart home. I hope you have realized this one is your own.
I hope in your favorite memories you remember the backdrop. Whether it was raining, the sun was out, or there was an orange burn in the sky. I hope you always remember that one time you were laid out on a bench after a storm, thinking, “I’m okay. Who knew.” I hope that the storms of life change you, not by their violence, but by the unfailing peace that follows.
I hope you enjoyed lots and lots and lots of fries, and as the years pass, I hope you feel less inclined to worry about the effect of each order. More than that, I hope you learn to share.
I hope just once you walked into a room and knowingly lit it up. Even if it was only once, I hope you owned it for no other reason than being yourself. And if you haven’t done this yet, I wish this for you in the years to come.
As life passes you by, I hope you get better at loving — yourself and others. I pray for your sake the years teach you two beautiful dances: the seductive YES and the freeing NO. I hope you master swaying from side to side as the music plays.
I hope that the hours always remind you that keeping out the hurt, will keep out the love as well. Of all the times you considered doing this, I hope you failed. I hope you are determined to keep failing at this.
I hope you listen to the lyrics of old songs. I hope you sing along with people from other times and realize it’s all been felt before. I hope as you chant you swing your arms so hard that you forget what you were so worried about in the first place. I hope at least once you dance until the sun comes out.
And when there is loss, I hope you know to kneel to soften the blows and ease the heart. I hope you make your healing your thing. I hope you learn to enjoy apologizing and forgiving others. I hope each year it gets easier to ask for hugs and take them.
I hope that you age well. I hope you age happily, handsomely, and whole-heartedly. And above all, I hope that you realize that with all its unexpected pounds, stops, and turns, the gift of aging is everything.
Happy Birthday to my Conz.