For some time now, I wanted to start a blog. I have no idea if anyone will read this or not, but I enjoy writing so here goes.
It is strange how life changes as we get older and how our perspectives change. In my 20's I lived like there was always a tomorrow. In my 30's I realized I needed to buckle down and make some decisions about my future. In my 40's I coasted along working and just living life. And now as I am early in my 50's, I am so thankful for every day that I am given. Even though I am aware of my age, I don't feel like it defines me. I guess sometimes it is limiting in certain things. But, most of the time it is just a number. This way of thinking is so different from earlier years whenever I would say proudly that I was 18 or 21, like those numbers meant something important. So funny for me to think about that now when I realize how much I didn't know at those young ages. Life DOES teach us some valuable lessons. :)
A little personal information about me, I am a daughter, sister, wife, mother, and grandmother. Each of these roles are so special to me and I wish to share some thoughts and stories pertaining to each one. First, I will begin with a "daughter" story. I am the only girl with two brothers, one older and one younger. Of course, I was spoiled just a tad by my dad, because I was the only girl. (Personally love that part) There was a time our family went snow skiing in New Mexico. I wanted to try it, which was a little crazy since I was afraid of heights. Anyway, I made it up the ski lift and turned to look down the hill (which was the bunny hill) and basically freaked out. I tried to ski a little, but knew I couldn't keep control. At that point, I popped off my skis and started walking down the hill. A friend of mine, that was trying to help me, said, "You can't walk down the hill, it will be easier to ski." . I said, " It is ok, my dad is watching, and he will walk up and help me." . About that time I looked and saw my dad walking up the hill, staying to the side, out of the way of other skiers. He helped me carry my skis, and we made it down the hill just fine. A sweet memory of a time my dad "rescued " me. (Even if it happened when I was 40 years old. Never too old to be a "daddy's girl" ) :)