When I was 43... I lost my best friend, to cancer.
Eleni and I were together for 17 years, the better part of my (so far) adult life. It felt as if a large chunk of my heart had been torn out with her passing.
When I was 43... my last living grandparent, my mother's mother, aged 98, passed away.
I am no longer anyone's granddaughter and my inner child doesn't like it at all.
When I was 43... Daughter#1, my eldest, spread her wings and flew away to another country for her studies.
It's a proud moment when your child is out on her own for the first time and doing very well in another country nonetheless.
It's a bittersweet feeling that as "Mommy" you're not in demand as much any more.
When I was 43... a homecoming took place that put my heart at ease and I was able to hug my father again.
Last night, a quarter past midnight, I turned 44.
Recently read:
Debriefing
- Flubberwinkle
- Athens, Greece
- Half of the day they call me "Athena" where I get paid to dabble with computers. The other half of the day I'm called "Mom", but I also have an online secret identity. I am bilingual, so what might look like Greek to you, probably is. I blog because it's cheaper than therapy and I like to make people laugh.
