Day 983 Libby

 

 had such a fun night out with my high school friends, toasting to turning sixty. Each birthday feels like winning the lottery—how am I so lucky to still be here?

Today’s photo is of me and Libby, surrounded by a bunch of familiar faces from school. Libby and I were inseparable during junior high and high school. Her laugh was loud and contagious, she talked way too fast, and she was always ready for fun. We could make each other laugh so hard we’d cry, and honestly, we got into more trouble than we probably should have.

Libby passed away in her forties—she never saw fifty, let alone sixty. I don’t mind the wrinkles, the occasional mystery back pain, or the creak in my bones when I wake up, but losing friends along the way? That’s by far the hardest part of aging.

Maybe that’s why I thank my lucky stars every single day for the health of my family and friends, and why I cherish every visit with them. I’ve lost more than my fair share of friends at this point, but I carry them with me in spirit. When I think of Libby, I’m not sad. On the contrary, I smile—and often laugh out loud—remembering her exuberant joy and endless silliness.

Sitting around the table with my old school crew (junior high, really), I soaked in every moment of my good fortune, knowing how blessed I am. Collette came back to my house for a sleepover... and the fact that I’m still having sleepovers at sixty? Absolutely fantastic.

I can talk about Libby with these friends who knew her too—and we all smile as we remember her big grin and even bigger personality. I don't know why some people live to be a hundred while others leave us so young. But if you're lucky enough to celebrate another birthday—enjoy it.

Because nights like this, surrounded by laughter, memories, and love, are the real treasures of growing older.