22 going on 23

Each Valentine's day, my mother would buy me and my brother a small gift.  Usually it was a toy or trinket or something of the like.  As a child, I always loved to read.  I always checked out my limit of 4 books at the library and returned and exchanged them as soon as possible.  One Valentine's day, I walked down the stairs to see our gifts sitting on that white and yellow speckled kitchen counter.  Brad's toy?  A G.I. Joe.  My gift was a book.  A lowsy book.  Now, why I thought my gift was lousy? I don't know... I loved to read and this was a perfectly appropriate gift for me.  I put up a huge fuss!!  My mother was so offended that she never got us a gift for Valentine's day (other than a sweet or two) after that.  My mom always bought me the best gifts, and sent the most thoughtful lcards, and most of the time I never appreciated them.  

Today, the day before my 23rd birthday, I am sitting in the Columbus airport, heading to Chicago.  I am flying away from my family, and all but one of my best friends.  Birthdays were always important to us Barrett's and I have chosen (though not quite so willingly) to spend this birthday away from the people that I most want to be with.  I am going to a setting in which no one will know that it is my birthday.  I am feeling apprehensive, and a bit lonely already, just sitting in the airport.  

Who knows what tomorrow will bring... another year to my age? certainly.  A bit of sadness that I won't ever get a card or gift from my mom?  Most likely.  Loneliness because I'm not spending my first birthday married with my husband?  Yeah.  Will I live through it all?  Yes.  

23, here I come...