Do you ever wonder how you’ll be remembered? I’m one step closer to forty (woo hoo! can’t wait to be officially middle-aged) and yet fell out laughing when my aunt sent me this birthday email:
It does not seem like such a long time ago that you were born…I remember you as a little butter ball while I was waiting for Bethany to come along…and you have always held a special place in my heart.
When I’m sixty, there will still be people in my life who remember me as “butterball.” It’s a name that’s stayed with me ever since I looked like this:
It’s hard to celebrate when your birthday falls in the middle of the work week, so I’m going to try to have some quiet fun over the weekend. There will be marionettes…