Twenty-one years ago last week, I celebrated my 21st birthday.  If that math is as complicated for you as it was for me (it took me far longer to figure this out than it should have), I’ll help you out.  Last week, I turned 42. 

I took a little time to reflect.  Okay, really, I reflected earlier in the week, because truthfully, yesterday was too much of a whirlwind for me to have time to breathe, much less reflect. 

My 21st birthday was monumental, and not really for the obvious reasons.  I was a junior in college and I had a fairly low-key day and evening.  I did enjoy part of a bottle of champagne with some friends.  And, my parents bought me the aquamarine ring set in white gold that I had been coveting for months.  I wore that ring every day until Steve bought me an amethyst ring on our honeymoon, twelve years later.  At about 11:00 p.m. on the night of my 21st birthday, there was a knock on my dorm room door and on the other side was my current crush.  He was an interesting man.  He was from Poland, his accent was thick and he had a reputation as somewhat of a ladies’ man.  Certainly, he was handsome, but I think I was more fascinated by the idea that he was the only person I have ever known who has fired an AK-47.  That, and that he wore a silver cross on a chain around his neck.  I was struck by that contrast.  Anyway, he’d stopped by to talk – we often did that, staying up late into the night discussing politics and poetry.  I shared some of my champagne with him and for some reason, he gave me his sweater.  I don’t think I took that sweat off for ten days.  I remember, after he left, thinking that day was the most perfect birthday I would ever have.  Now, half a lifetime away, I realize that it wasn’t that birthday, but in fact the day after my perfect birthday that shaped the rest of my life.

On March 6th, 1990, my friend Michelle and I loaded up her car and headed to Daytona Beach to pick up our friend Kim.  We left Daytona late and drove through the night, arriving in Pensacola for spring break just as dawn was breaking.  As we drove into town, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was coming home.  It was a feeling that grew throughout the week and grew even stronger when we returned for spring break the next year.  That feeling was so strong that I moved down here just after graduation.  Michelle followed soon thereafter.  She met a Navy man here, married him, and has moved around the country with him.  But, I’d hazard a guess that she has a fondness for Pensacola. 

And me?

Well, you know the rest of the story.  I found a job, bought a house, met the man of my dreams, and had two precious little girls.  All in this town that I came to the day after my 21st birthday.

And yesterday, I realized that the birthday I had thought was so perfect twenty-one years ago paled into comparison to my life now.  I spent the day surrounded by friends and family and I felt nothing but loved.

My friends surprised me with a cupcake from Oh! Snap when we were at church for The Tour of Tables.  The gazllion people that were there sang Happy Birthday to me.  And while a small part of me wanted to dissolve into the floor from embarassment, mostly I was just overwhelmed with joy and the amazing kindness of my friends. 

When I pulled into my driveway after the luncheon, I was greeted with balloons and a sign drawn by Steve and the girls.  (And more Oh! Snap cupcakes…the people in my life definitely know my fondness for those).  The girls gave me earrings and Steve told me I could order the Silhouette cutting machine I’ve been coveting for months.  Cupcakes, jewelry, and craft supplies?  What could be more perfect? 

Steve and I went out for dinner at Cobalt.  It was delicious, as always.  And as we were driving home, I looked over at him, this man I married.  And realized that while this man doesn’t have a thick accent (well, at least not a foreign one..I don’t think any one would deny that his Southern drawl is readily apparent to anyone who talks to him) and we rarely, if ever, talk about poetry (and only occasionally politics since we have very differing views of government), I find him far more interesting (and handsome) than the AK-47-toting poet from Poland.  My life is certainly different than I expected it to be 21 years ago.  It is far, far richer and much, much fuller than I ever could have imagined.  I’m twice as old as I was 21 years ago, and a hundred times happier.