Somehow, I think it’s appropriate that of all the days the Earth is closest to the sun, it would be my mother’s birthday.

Of all the people I have ever met, I have never met someone who is such an indomitable force. Five foot nothing. Lucky if she is a hundred pounds. 77 (God help me…I can’t remember her exact birth year). Runs 3 miles a day. Walks up and down five flights of stairs three times a day. The woman is amazing.

I face my aging, at this point, with a sense of dread. I don’t bounce anymore. When I was younger and got sick, give me 24 hours and I was fine. Now, that time has doubled. If I’m lucky. 

I did some core exercises today. Real basic stuff. Like something called “suitcase walking” where I held my teacher bag that was weighed down primarily with an anthology in one hand and marched in place for one minute. One minute. Halfway through, I switched hands. I wasn’t winded. But I was definitely breathing heavy. And could feel the pull in my hips. 

What the hell? I’m not supposed to be feeling like this. I’m young. Right?

Nope. 

I downloaded a New York Times article today about exercises to help with aging. Yeah. Aging.

I am young in comparison to my mother. I am the average age in comparison to my peers. I am old in comparison to my children or students. 

In my skin, I feel the advent of aging. Like it’s there. At the tips of my toes, ready to grow up and around me like Jack’s beanstalk. 

And then I look at my mother. 76. 77? God knows (quite literally). She’s a great-grandmother now. And she is friggin’ indomitable, so magnetically strong that she has drawn the sun closer to the Earth (work with me now….I know this isn’t correct…but just work with me). 

I wonder about legacy. Ponder what I will leave behind as I go through my life. I am about four years from retirement. For the last 18 months, I have been steadily cleaning up and clearing out my classroom because I just don’t need everything anymore.

Every now and then, I can see my mother pondering her legacy. She and I will talk about artwork hanging in her home. Cross-stitched patters that she designed that reflect her favorite places, favorite memories. The church in Grainau. A metro stop in Paris. Flowers from Yorkshire moors. They are her legacy and her life. 

Today, my mother begins her next journey around the sun, a sun that is just a wee bit closer today because that’s just the nature of gravity and science. But I still can’t help but think about this woman who is so incredibly tiny and so incredibly strong. And I still think it’s perfect that today we’re just that much closer to the center of our galaxy.

Happy birthday Mom.