50. 50 years. 50 years old.
What a kick!
I’m still kicking.
I woke up Saturday to the smell of cake baking in the oven. My mom was making her magical German Chocolate Cake for my birthday–in her kitchen that was in the middle of a major renovation. German Chocolate Cakes have been a yearly tradition for the majority of my 50 birthdays–including my first.
My first. The one where my parents and I had cake at my grandparents–and my parents left me with my namesakes (Joe & Ann) to go to the Detroit Free Press ski school for the first time, to learn how to downhill ski–which they would continue to do for the next 40 or so years.
Last year, my mom’s GC cake was belated since I got to spend my actual 49th birthday on Antigua. What great memories of being back and such a great way to kick off my 50th year!!
This 50th birthday week is quieter and less dramatic, but significant nevertheless. I have a suspicion that my reflection on this milestone has just begun.
So grateful for my family. So grateful to be here. Happy 50th to me!!!