26

I'm 26 today. Twenty plus six. Thirteen years older than thirteen. Two score and six. Thirty minus four (yikes). Fifty two divided by two (whoa). Today...I am many combinations of numbers. And 66 years younger than Peanut--though I don't think she'd like to be reminded of that!

So, where should you be when you're 26? By society's standards, it's been three years since college, so I should either be midway up the corporate ladder or almost finished with graduate school. I, in case this is news to anyone, am neither. But let me tell you something, friends--I'm glad I'm not. Though I do have to remind myself of that sometimes. Because just like when I see a skinny, beautiful model on television, I sometimes forget who I am and think I should look differently than I do.

The key word in there, though, is forget. These days, it's very easy to forget who we are. We're overstimulated. By technology, our fast-paced environment, the accessibility of EVERYTHING--all are key factors in distracting us from what is important.

I, lucky girl that I am, have only recently realized that I've been given a gift. In this 26th year of my life, I've been given the gift of time with Peanut. I'm seeing life from a different perspective now--the perspective of my grandmother, a member of the Greatest Generation, a woman with 66 more years of life experience than I have--and it's changing my perspective...on EVERYTHING.

In 1941--when my grandparents were coming of age--the corporate ladder, graduate school, and looking like a model were the last things on everyone's minds. During World War II, people were simply trying to survive. And I think it's safe to say that when your survival and the survival of your loved ones is all that you think about, your perspective on life is altered. You can't forget who you are in a situation like that. Who you are and where you are (and where the people you love are) is staring you straight in the face 24/7. Because of this, you learn to know what's valuable and what's not. PEOPLE become valuable. Family becomes valuable. Not things, not degrees, not impressive careers, not your own vanity. People. Relationships. Love. 

I think that this instinct is engrained in the minds of the Greatest Generation. In the Millennial Generation, however, this instinct appears to be lost. That's why I am so grateful, on my 26th birthday, to not be climbing the corporate ladder, to not be buried in a stack of books, to not be trying the newest diet or cleanse. I am grateful for this gift of time with my grandmother. And I am hoping that in this year with Peanut, this instinct of remembrance rather than forgetfulness will rub off on me. That maybe, somehow, in a year's time, I can become a member of the Greatest Generation by exposure to the elements. That's what I want for my birthday. More time with Peanut. More time for remembrance. For family. For people. For relationships. For love.

I'll leave you with this:

Just look at what was on my pillow last night.