We are More
Today is my birthday. 34 years ago I was a squishy newborn curled up in my mom's arms as my mom was amazed, terrified, and in awe that she was now a mother and wholly responsible for the new life before her (or at least, I imagine that's how she felt because that's how I felt when my first was born). I came into the world surrounded by love, chocolate cake, and crocheted blankets. 34 years later and I am once again surrounded by love, chocolate, and a crocheted blanket from my Nana. 34. 34 is the age that I picture my mom at when I think of her. Sometimes with a perm, sometimes with short hair. But always full of love, even when I hurt her in ways that only a teenager can hurt a parent. 34. I don't feel 34. I swear yesterday I was graduating high school and getting ready for university, but that was almost 16 years ago. Now I'm closer to my 20 year reunion than my 10 year reunion. I think back to my 18 year old self and wish I could tell her that her life