Young Padawan, longtime resident of Twenties Town, passed away with her goblet glass raised on the eve of her 30th birthday. Once a victim of her own naivety and former lead in the off Broadway production of “So You Think Have Things all Figured Out?” she was excited to leave behind the uncertainty and doubt that had defined her worth for a decade.
Her cadaver bears some resemblance to a windy and weathered road. There are cuts that have turned to scabs and scabs that have turned to scars, but there is undeniable beauty in her blemishes. Her smirk smacks of a resilient spirit hinting at hard knocks turned to graceful harmony. Her eyes are more alive than ever before calling toward her an inheritance of laughter and love in the land of thirty-something.
The light emanating from her inner self casts a glow so bright she’d have to squint to make out the remaining remnants of the roller-coaster ride that was her twenties. She grabs hold to her future like a living embodiment of Venus. Rays of sunshine bounce happily off her atmosphere blanketing the acidic clouds of her past.
She worried at first that she would long to return to the madness of her former dwelling place. After all, it wasn’t entirely made up of missteps, errs and blunders. Her worry, however, was always short lived for the love of thirty calmed her reservations and armed her with some inalienable truths: anger and un-forgiveness are energy sucks of the most expensive kind, the breakdown of a beloved BFF pact can hurt as much, if not more, than the pangs of divorce, and unanswered prayers are blessings in disguise for what you thought you wanted turned out to be way less than what you deserved.
With her invisible shackles now unlocked, her old self is survived by the new; if given the choice to buy the shoe, eat the slice of cake, dance with or without a partner she will proclaim, “Yes!” She will also embrace the word No and mean it, declare I Love You and know what it means, say I Apologize, which is much different than I’m Sorry, and she will smile, wide and welcoming, because it turns out her mother was right: a smile can often be one’s greatest fashion accessory.
There will be no service for Young Padawan and in lieu of flowers, donations can be sent to the alive and well, thirty-five year old payer of college loans, shopper of family dinners, coordinator of children’s chaos, grader of student essays, snapper of date night selfies with the hubby, planner of ladies night out with the girls, writer of stories, investor in dreams, partaker in the promises of life, embracer of a belly filled with thirty-something butterflies.
- See more at: http://www.mythirtyspot.com/2014/09/an-obituary-to-my-twenties-all-for-the-love-of-my-thirties-love-for-30-project.html/#sthash.RUlfn0eD.WQDudmfv.dpuf