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Writer's pictureCarol Wawrychuk

Elephants Under the Rug

Birth. Day.  The day of birth.  My 75th Birthday. 



Birthdays are really important to me.  Well, I suppose they are to most people, but you see I have Jesus’ half birthday.  July 25th.  Technically it’s not the half way point, a little over, 7 months from December 25th.  But it’s close enough for me.  


OMG. . .In So Many Ways


This birthday, however, was a little different.  1947 – 2022.  By my calculations that’s 75 years old.  How did that happen?   50 was no problem.  60 and even 70 Okay.  But 75?  Nope.  Not liking that one bit.  


OMG. . .In So Many Ways.


I’ll keep it under wraps.  No one needs to know.  I mean I think I can pass for younger.  


For decades I’ve been the master of “Elephants Under the Rug”.  Pretend I had it all together when I didn’t.  Pretend we had enough money, when we didn’t.  The perfect childhood.  Perfect marriage.  Perfect family.  None of them perfect.  I mean, is there such a thing?


And now it’s my age.  Old.  Older. Pretend.  Deny.  Sweep it under the rug with all those other elephants!


You’d think I’d learn.  Secrets.  They just don’t work.  Pretending I wasn’t 75 was not going to keep me from being 75.  Why couldn’t I accept it?



Until. . .Until. . .we were in the Albuquerque Airport leaving on our Anniversary trip to France.  There was THE SIGN!  I thought, let me snap a picture of that.  Then a little voice said there was a better idea.


“Bill, take a photo of me next to this sign.”  And yes, it was my 75th birthday.

In that one moment, I began embracing 75.  Not as a slipping, but as a mighty hooray. I’ve been given 75 years on this earth.  Hopefully many more.  Now the question for me is, how am I going to spend them?  



Thank you, Albuquerque Airport.  Thank you “Little Voice”.


OMG. . .In So Many Ways



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