41... finding my stride.

Unlike my 40th birthday, 41 feels like a comfortable old oversized sweatshirt. I have had a full year to get over the fact that life is moving along at warp speed. I am beginning to think that the wind swept hair that goes with it, suits me well.  If only when I looked in the mirror (like kitty here), I could find mirror me to help chip away at the growing to do list.   The day I turned 40, I vowed to never let a day pass feeling unfulfilled.  365 days later, this year’s photo catalogue has swelled to well over 60,000 photos, hinting to me, that I haven’t missed out on much. I wouldn’t want it any other way. While Chris suggest that I have taken every photo that could possible be concocted, I do believe that I am just beginning to find my stride. Like the halfway point of the marathon, life has found its rhythm.
       I have a distinct memory of my mom at age 41 while I was in 8th grade (similar to Kate  and I right now).  She seemed like Micky as the Sorcerer conducting life’s greatest symphony.  She danced the dance of motherhood so gracefully ensuring that everyone would be better off. I can only hope that someday I’ll make her proud as I reach for the star she so perfectly crafted.