A Poem to Myself on my 26th Birthday...

A Poem to Myself on my 26th Birthday... Tina Humphrey

Congratulations to you on 26 years of life.
On learning to walk, reading about Nancy Drew's 'keen' adventures, writing in cursive, and avoiding cooties.
On Christmas ornaments with your face on them, drawings stuck to the fridge, summer days spent pleading with your mother, "What can I do now???"
On thick purple eyeglasses, braces with green rubber bands, perms, and purple plastic jelly shoes with your pinky toe always sticking out.
On piano keys plunking and heavy, breathy air escaping from your flute... at least for a few years.
On the lyrics to "Hit me With Your Best Shot" and "Like a Virgin" being repeated over and over.
On your canopy bed with the purple awning, the bulletin board that took up an entire wall, a phone with gigantic plastic numbers that was finally yours alone.

Congratulations to you on 26 years of life.
On Homecoming parades hanging out the window of the wood paneled station wagon, TPing Greg Swartzendruber and the O'Shea boys, whiplash from learning to drive a stick shift, and only one traffic ticket.
On chemistry labs, writing about fashion trends for The Cougar Herald, cheerleading camp in matching outfits, prank phone calls accidentally intercepted by your father at 1am.
On trips in the back of the green Hornet station wagon to Paw Paw, Michigan, winning a few fights with your sister, stopping at every historical landmark.
On the rejection of not making the squad, walking away from lots of tennis matches with your bottom lip quivering due to a score of 4 to 6, accidentally (really, Dad) wrecking the Escort.
On watching "The Making of Thriller" repeatedly and reciting the mantra, "I want my MTV."
On surviving the loss of your grandparents and Chad while still managing to go to school, to practice, and to do homework, before you turned 17.

Congratulations to you on 26 years of life. On moving to the dorm and showering in flip-flops, on gaining 25 pounds due to six nights a week in bars (thanks to your fake ID) with karaoke while dancing with your eyes closed.
On joining the sorority with the rich girls from Chicago, moving into an apartment, choosing and changing your major, vague memories of Spring Break in Mazatlan on booze cruises.
On the roar of home football games (Go Hawkeyes!!!) in frigid, see-your-breath, dress like an Eskimo, 5-degree temperatures, on hiking to class in 105-degree heat and Midwest humidity dripping down your neck.
On managing a "C" in "Statistics and Society" and a full-semester of Shakespeare crammed into three summer weeks.
On surviving on Chicken-flavored Raman Noodles, dollar slices of pizza on Sundays, and Mickey's grilled cheese sandwiches with a side of Ranch dressing. On losing 35 pounds.
On saying good-bye to your chosen family after crossing that stage in May in your cap and gown, on frolicking all over Europe for four weeks with your best friend, a Let's Go Europe guide, and a giant backpack.

Congratulations to you on 26 years of life.
On returning home to pack your boxes and your tiny black Jeep to move to Denver.
Alone.
On living by yourself and eventually being able to sleep through the night, on not being able to split the phone bill three ways, getting your own bank account and free toaster.
On hearing the words "cervical cancer" in the office of your gynecologist. On repeat check-ups, the miracle of advances in women's health care, early detection.
On student teaching a room full of wide-eyed rich kids in English, on your trial by fire with a full-time substitute position in civics where you read each chapter the night before you taught it and begged that there would be no questions.
On finding a big-girl job in Highlands Ranch, teaching teenagers with top test scores who call you, "Ms. Humphrey."
On picking out your own way of setting up the desks, filling up your own filing cabinets with hand-crafted lessons and units, leaving for work at 6am and returning home to crash at 7pm.

Congratulations to you on 26 years of life.
On returning for year two and year three at that same school, on actually becoming a mentor to another wide-eyed novice, on your Board of Education recognition for publishing your articles.
On forming a book club that is attended by math teachers, on coaching cheerleading... and deciding not to do that ever again!
On falling down hard on skis, mountain biking with white knuckles and clipless pedals, snowshoeing on a soft and silent winter afternoon, and finishing a 10K in under an hour.
On telling your parents you love them every single week, spoiling your niece with love and gifts, being a friend who laughs, cries, and still sings karaoke on occasion.
On fin-a-lly falling in love with a man who reads books, too.
On moving towards a master's degree, dreaming of a PhD and the title of "Dr. Humphrey."

Congratulations to you on 26 years of life.
On discovering yourself, paying your own bills, getting your oil changed and teeth cleaned.
On finding your own voice, your own vision, your own opinion.
On sticking to it.
On 25 years of surviving, holding on, and letting go.
Here's to you.

Happy birthday.