The Perfect Life

I turned 37 yesterday. Thirty-seven. I don't know where the time has gone. I remember a day when that number sounded SO old. It doesn't anymore. Which makes me think it is - and I hit that age where I just don't see it. Funny thing is, I feel like life is just beginning. All the living up till now has been learning. Figuring it out along the way. But now . . . now I really get to DO it. Is this how everyone feels?

My munchkins won't stop growing - no matter how many times I ask them to. They're chugging along, growing, learning, challenging me. All. The. Time. I love those little powerhouses more than life itself.

And - the big news, the man I love asked me to spend the rest of my life with him. I still don't understand how I was lucky enough to not only find him, but for him to love me back. As much as I love him. So, we're becoming our own version of the Brady Bunch. It's crazy. And beautiful. It's life.

I remember some really, really hard times. Days that I was certain I would never, ever feel the way I do right now. Have the love and the people in my life that I have. I was so wrong.

People have told me "everything's falling into place", "look at everything you have", "you deserve this", and many similar things. My opinion - at this point in time - is that you don't know what the top of the mountain looks like until you've seen the lowest point in the valley. You don't know what love feels like - real, deep, true love - until you've experienced the pain of losing love. You can't really appreciate the fantastic-ness of a crazy, beautiful life without the highest highs, the lowest lows, the greatest joys and the unimaginable sorrows.

I'm 37. And I finally get it. My perfect life is just my life. The path has been winding, steep, deep, rocky, smooth, and just as it was supposed to be. I have no idea where the road leads from here. But I'm taking the steps without looking down. And holding onto a very strong hand along the way.