This morning I blew out fifty-seven birthday candles, fifty-six to show my age and one for good luck. My husband of thirty years was behind me, his hands held back my long, dark-brown hair from the flickering flames as I leaned down and made a wish. I wished for my two eldest sons good luck in their lives in and out of college. I wished my baby girl, though at nineteen she isn't so much a baby anymore, to find happiness in her last summer before college and that that boy she's dating wises up. I wished my youngest brother, who just had his second child last week, a happy parenthood, like I have had. I wished for my husband to get that promotion at the Hospital. But most of all, I wished to be sixteen again, so that I could do it all over again.
1 comment:
That was so cute Jess! I loved it, as I do all of your writing.
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