I am about to leave for a birthday dinner. My daughter is asleep and my husband and I are traveling to Staten Island to have dinner with my parents, sister, and grandmother; we are celebrating my parents’ birthdays.
My parents were born 14 days apart and are turning 60 this year. It is hard for me to imagine my parents at 60 because they are so vibrant, so jovial, so in love with life. They don’t seem 60. They seem more like peers.
I like going to dinner with my family. We are going to a restaurant but no matter where we are there is something so comfortable, so warm, so familiar about it. I know what they will order. I know what they will drink. I know what jokes they will make. I am looking forward to it.