I wondered how I'd feel when this day would arrive; would it be melancholy, lamenting the passage of time, missed opportunities, paths not taken? Or perhaps excited about the propsects of launching new endeavors, using the date as an opportunity to start fresh?
In the end, I feel.... the same as yesterday.
Life is a journey, and isn't defined by numbers or a calender. My life has been a string of days, good and bad, (and uneventful), linking together to form a chain of personal history.
I'd like to think that I've grown over the past four decades, or at least become a wee bit wiser. I know that I still have growing to do, things to accomplish, and days to experience.
Hopefully, another forty years worth.
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