12 December 2009

Half a Century

I slept in this morning, an attempt to recover from the House of Whelmed's Ho-ho-ho Homemade Holiday Hoedown, and spent my first waking moments paging through my current non-required reading. I'm twenty-eight and it's the day after a lovely party and I'm laying in bed reading a book. Somewhere in the chapter on Paris's hot chocolate, I remembered: my mom would have been fifty today and suddenly I'm frantic about whether being twenty-eight-the-day-after-a-lovely-party-reading-a-book is a proper use of my time. There are other things I should be doing, clothes to be folded, papers to be written, rooms to be cleaned.

And then I realized this is exactly how my mom would have wanted to celebrate fifty years of life: laying in bed the morning after a lovely party, quilt pulled tight, reading. And read on, I did.

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