It's August 24, 1967
My mother's in labor
And it ain't no heaven.
Those were the first lines of a poem I wrote for my mother on my 11th birthday. On almost every birthday, I get the rhyme stuck in my head. But I've come so far. My birth was heavenly! Yes! At least now I think so.
I woke up this morning and when I went to the bathroom, a ladybug was sitting on the sink. How can I not believe that it was a good luck charm to pop off the year? I was thrilled to see it.
41's cool. It ain't giving me grief. What am I gonna do? I feel good, hopeful. We're having a lil vegan potluck later in our courtyard, and Husband took me on a date last night. We rode our bikes. My favorite kind of date. It's always my favorite part, the ride. Cruising my town, the sunset light spilling onto the roads and trees, a breeze lifting the conversation between us. Man, it's the breeze! The breeze of a casual ride soaks right into me.
Mr. Handsome. Off to a yummy dinner.Rolling along Ocean Avenue.My favorite view, on my fav form of transportation with Husband, my favorite adult.I think 41 is going to be more than cool. It's going to be great. The ladybug told me so.