And it hasn’t even happened yet.
Today is the last day of my twenties. My Thirty Eve. And I’m feeling a little introspective. Like, wow. I sure have learned a lot.
But at the same time, incredibly humbled. Because, seriously? I’m not even thirty.
I know nothing.
I know nothing of a career, of caring for aging parents. Nothing of marriage-years in the double digits. Nothing of selling a home, teenage children or the loss of a loved one.
But I do know something. I know love.
I’ve had 30 years of love given to me, poured on me, sister-hugged into me, forehead-kissed on me, sacrificed for me… Over and over and over again. Every day, in fact, every moment of the last 10,949 days someone(s) loved me (and I’m not even talking about The SomeOne, nor the fact that I was loved long before I was born).
To celebrate this year-turning, my parents offered me several nights stay at their home. By myself. It almost felt like I was only their daughter again.
The time was filled with eating, sleeping, swimming, nothing, crafting, eating some more, sister-ing, creating, nourishing, visiting, and a million other –ings. So much family-love.
This past Saturday, 11 beautiful women and 1 beautiful sister snatched me away for a night at the beach.
A night of laughing, drinking, eating, beach-walking, beach-talking, more talking, more laughing and more loving. Ever more wonderful –ings. So much friend-love.
And tomorrow’s sunrise, the sunrise on my actual 30th birthday, will wake me up to the most important Loves: My Little Loves and My Life-Long-Love. The girls have already warned me that the gifts they purchased are hidden in Daddy’s sock drawer. Don’t look there Mama! They wiggle in joy, anticipating a day they get to love on me.
Andy holds my hand and squeezes. A gentle squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. Our silent code for “I love you”. It’s the same motion we invented walking each other to class 10 year ago, but it’s hard to explain the depth it conveys now. He squeezed my hand like that dancing at our wedding, hiking in Brazil, after arguments, moving states, after our children were born, while praying in Mass… So many different kinds of love from one person. For one person.
The love in my life keeps growing. I see it digging deeper roots and sprouting new limbs, a deep stretch in both directions. And I wonder, what is to come… What will the next 30 years bring?
It’s hard to say.
But, love is there.
That, I know for sure.