Twenty-five

Who knew I'd be twenty five already.

I didn't. Or at least last weekend I didn't when my uncle asked me how old I would be turning and I told him 26. My brother, who is exactly 1 year, two weeks, and 1 day older than me said, "no you're not."

I did the math and realized I'll only be twenty-five.

Having to do the math probably means that I'm getting older, that the years are passing by more quickly, and that I may need to use more of my "fine lines and wrinkles" St. Ive's face wash... although I still need the "acne AKA teenager" St. Ive's face wash too. I'm not sure how that works.

But let's be honest, I know many of you, like my co-workers told me, are laughing thinking about when you turned twenty-five.  Because when you look back now, twenty-five seems like a very long time ago.

The clinic where I work has about forty employees. I am the youngest, and I have been told that I am actually younger than most people's children. I have been corrected when I did not understand 'the way things are in the real world,' and I have been puzzled many times when we talk about 'where Jimmy Hoffa is buried'.

This weekend I embraced by youth by running a 5K through mud and fire and water and over nets and under barbed wire.  But let's be honest, I felt a little older when I had to stop and catch by breath, or when the 65-year-old man passed me.

I embraced by age when I woke up Monday morning and realized I was sore. Everywhere.

I'm twenty-five and one grammatical edit away from my Masters. I presented my research this weekend at a conference and I'll be attending research day today at the VA. This morning, I'll get my teeth cleaned, and next weekend I'm planning to buy pantry organizers at Ikea. It all sounds very grown up, doesn't it.

But I still love to run around outside and discover the world, and pull over on the side of the road to take pictures of the wild flowers. I love music and I love to sing out loud in my car, in my shower, and in the Wal-Mart.  I don't mind riding the shopping carts like they are skateboards or cheering louder than ever for my husband at his softball games.

I like twenty-five. I think it says I'm old enough to know what I love, but still young enough o add new things to the list. Quoting the wonderful author Shauna Neiquist from the 'Twenty-Five' chapter of  Bittersweet, "You are young enough to believe that anything is possible, and you are old enough to make that belief a reality."

I think I'm a pretty good twenty-five. I'm becoming, something, someone. Not yet thirty, not quite 20...but just twenty-five.

Happy Birthday.