Doesn’t that sound grown-up? Well, I’m forty now so it should. Seriously, I thought I’d have great talks with Terri (check), get some good rest (fair), and eat well (o.k., not so much) but I never anticipated coming home with this overwhelming feeling of thankfulness – for my husband, my home, my kids, my mom, my dog.Part of this blissful awareness came about as the result of all the very young, very single, mostly very attractive people Terri works with. She had told me everyone she works with is young and beautiful but until you are hanging around these people, in bathing suits no less, you don’t quite get it. Let’s just say as I stood there in my bikini and cover-up, I was feeling every inch of myself: mom, married, forty. Nothing to sneeze at, these are all commendable accomplishments in most worlds. But in the tiny world of Jamaica’s Rose Hall, I didn’t stand a chance. And the best part, it didn’t matter one bit to me. Because I didn’t have to play the game.
I’d go to bed as early as I wanted, not feel compelled to do the shot someone bought a round of, and talk about my kids and husband with abandon. I didn’t have to compete or hope to be noticed. I didn’t have to dance when my feet hurt or hide behind my sunglasses the next day. I got to be me. I got to stretch out in this newly turned forty-year-old body and feel whole and centered and oh-so-glad-to-be-me. How often do we get that?
So yes. As my plane landed in Nashville and my husband picked me up at the airport, I got a little choked up. Because I had to go all the way to Jamaica and back (via Detroit!) to learn (or remember?) that I want exactly what I have. No more, no less. What a gift – may I hold onto this knowing and remind myself of it often. Especially when I forget or get lost.
Yes. I want exactly what I have.
