I went down to the dock this morning, about quarter to seven. It was just me and the birds. I brought a cup of coffee and my knitting, and spent two blissful hours watching the mist rise.
If that was all the holiday I got, it would be enough.
I’m thinking about lots of things. My brother turns 50 in a week;my dad turns 70 this winter. My ex-husband is turning 60 shortly. I wonder if I’ll have anyone to celebrate with in a couple of years when I turn 50, or if I’ll still be just me, looking in. Don’t get me wrong, I’m doing fine, I like being me, and observing it all. I think that’s my role.