Today I am 30 years old. I had hoped to have something profound to say, some great word. After all, 30 is the number of maturity. But, alas, I’ve nothing.
My wife and children gave me gifts this evening. From the Boy, a coin bank shaped like a dog. The Girl gave me a coloring book and some fancy metallic ink pens. We’ll be able to color it together. My wife got me an olive-wood and brass mezuzah from Jerusalem.
My birthday dinner will be Saturday evening. We’re going to Johnny Carino’s, my favorite Italian restaurant.
Birthdays being a time to reflect, I’ve spent the day looking back at 30 years of good times and bad. Great memories, regrets, dreams and failures: these are the experiences that make me who I am.
I’ve also been looking forward, planning how to use my past to benefit my future. There’s so much left undone, and a lifetime remaining in which to accomplish it.
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