Forty...

...and fabulous! That's how I feel today. I am still adjusting to the idea of this new number. I teach first grade, so "place value" is not a lost concept on me. I've reached a whole new digit in the "tens place" with regard to age, and it will take awhile for it to become familiar. That's okay. I have the rest of my life to become accustomed to 40. That's my plan...to never really grow up.

How old would you be if you didn't know how old you were? ~Satchel Paige

Recently I was going through a box of my dad's things. They were given to me shortly after he passed away. There was a folder that contained many papers from his employment file at the Highway Patrol. In it, I found the original teletype message that went out to all the Troops in the state announcing my arrival:

16.36 05/11/70 OPERATOR 60 CARL SANDERS IS THE FATHER OF 6 LB 2 OUNCE BOUNCING BABY GIRL. MOTHER OK. FATHER IN SHOCK.

He saved this memo all of his fatherly life. The meaning of that simple truth is not lost on me. He loved me. He was proud of me. We might have had so much fun together today, Dad. I would have loved to have shared some time with you...

The years teach much which the days never knew.

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

My mother loves me too. She never fails to show this. Today, she appeared in my classroom after lunch. Together with some other very special people in my life, a surprise party had been planned for me and my first graders. To be able to carry this off without any clue on my part took chutzpah. I am grateful. It was nice of my mother to stay in the classroom awhile...my sister and little Max, too. They are not accustomed to seeing me in the role of teacher. They stayed for storytime. The reading throughout the day featured favorite literature from my childhood in honor of my birthday! The selections included, among others:

• Tikki Tikki Tembo, retold by Arlene Mosel
• Peter's Chair, by Ezra Jack Keats
• Where the Wild Things Are, by Maurice Sendak
• I'm Terrific, by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat
• Katy No-Pocket, by Emmy Payne...a memory and gift from my sister
• Harold and the Purple Crayon, by Crockett Johnson

The latter is extremely special to me. I still have my original copy from my own first grade year, the one I ordered from Scholastic. (Book orders were such a treat!) But today's story came from a hardback version gifted to me by my mother several Christmases ago. It is a simple text, but with a bit of imagination, the implications are profound. Inside the book, my mother's inscription says simply, "I hope this reminds you of a 'good' childhood memory. Love, Mom." Memories from my childhood were not always happy, but her influence remains endless. Here is an excerpt from my Teacher of the Year essay several years back...

"...The ‘passion’ of which I speak developed from a gift given to me by my mother. Her gift was one of time...and of reading. A stay-at-home mom with no more than a high school education, she nevertheless understood the joys and the power associated with literacy. A day rarely passed when I did not witness her reading. A day rarely passed when she did not read a book to me. There were days filled with helping me learn to print letters and numbers, my name, and even simple words. There were days filled with nursery rhymes and classic tales, and stories of Harold and the Purple Crayon. (Harold was a very imaginative little boy, who created an exciting world with a mere purple crayon!) I entered kindergarten with an enthusiasm for learning, and a love of books..."

And in the essay's closing...

"Perhaps this 'matter of time' seems insignificant. I will argue that it is not. The time we, as adults, spend with future generations is never wasted. As I know so well, it sets the stage for the hope of a life well-lived. The gift of time is that which lights the candle or, as in the case of Harold from my beloved childhood stories, gives the child the purple crayon with which to color his world."

I love you, Mom. Thanks for everything.

You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt; as young as your self-confidence, as old as your fear; as young as your hope, as old as your despair.
~Douglas MacArthur

* * * * *

The first forty years of life give us the text, the next thirty supply the commentary on it. ~ Schopenhauer

(No wonder I always have so much to say...!)

Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been. ~Mark Twain

Everyone is the age of their heart. ~Guatemalan Proverb

Men do not quit playing because they grow old; they grow old because they quit playing.
~Oliver Wendell Holmes

Age is opportunity no less,
Than youth itself, though in another dress,
And as the evening twilight fades away,
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Morituri Salutamus

You can't turn back the clock. But you can wind it up again. ~Bonnie Prudden

* * * * *

And so it begins... Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I am ready.

"The age of a woman doesn't mean a thing. The best tunes are played on the oldest fiddles.”

~Ralph Waldo Emerson