On The Eve of My 45th Birthday
A lot of December-born people bemoan their birthdays being ever-forgotten in the hustle and bustle of world holidays, but I’ve always found it to be quite the opposite. The world is happier, busier …
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Broken. And Beautiful.
It was my 40th birthday weekend, a dark, almost-Winter night nestled near the sound of waves on the Gulf Coast. The stars were brilliant pinpricks in the endless, black canopy above me. I had done a decidedly un-40-year-oldish thing …
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