Driving through the rain today,
watching the miles slip by,
on my way back home again
from another TDY,
Started thinking somehow of my life,
where I’ve been, what I’ve been through.
Tomorrow is my birthday,
and I’ll turn 42.

I’ve seen Dixie in the springtime,
and Paris in the fall,
watched moonlight on the Arabian Sea,
looked down the Canyon’s wall.
I’ve stayed up all night long
and watched sunrise tint the sky,
heard the desert’s night song,
seen bats and eagles fly.

I’ve raised my hand, signed my name,
and followed Uncle Sam,
crossed the seas a time or two,
held judgment in my hand.
I’ve loved a man I shouldn’t have,
and been what I shouldn’t have been,
I’ve said I do, and signed I don’t,
and I’d rather not do either again.

And there are days I hate my job,
and everything around,
and everything’s against me,
and it all just takes me down.
But I have a man who loves me,
he is strong–and also sweet,
and a precious growing daughter
who makes my life complete.

Although I’m not always quite sure
I guess I’m where God wants me to be,
so I’ll hold on to what He says
while I look toward 43…

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2 Responses to ““Milepost 42””

  1. Stacy,

    I’ve really enjoyed reading this a dozen times,
    And hear the logic and timing of the rhyme.
    It entwines little bits of history,
    As it definitely leaves some thoughts in mystery.

    Now I must try in a way to copy you
    Since I’m almost twice as old maybe I can do,
    A bit of sharing memories of the lanes I’ve walked,
    And of advice I’ve received from ones with whom I’ve talked.

  2. You are my heart, Babygirl, always and always. I would have spared you the hurt but that might have robbed you of the wholeness of who you are. When Rebecca is 42, you will know better what I mean: You are absolutely perfect.

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