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It hit me as my daughter Cydney and her BFF (best friend forever), Brianna, were singing carols to a group of residents at Clapp's Nursing Home here in Pleasant Garden. Amid the jingle bells and ho-ho-hoing, it happened. I had become middle-aged.

I am 45 years old.

Oh, don't get me wrong, I saw it coming. About the 15th of December, upon displaying my North Carolina drivers license, people will say "Oh, look who is getting ready to have a birthday," or, my favorites, "Do you like a holiday birthday? Don't you get ripped off? Do people ever give you birthday/Christmas presents?" (I do recall one boyfriend who wrapped a present, half holiday paper, half birthday paper, but he has not been heard from since.)

Then, there are the excuses for why people cannot come to birthday lunches, like because they had a waxing appointment (that was a good one). Often I get a Christmas card as my birthday card. (Sorry, but that is for baby Jesus only.) This all used to bother me so much more, and I daresay I wouldn't have survived had it not been for my big sister, Carollyne, nine years older. She always made birthdays very special along with my darling husband and wonderful daughters.

For reasons not even known to me, I started pulling away from birthday anything, becoming more curmudgeonly and cringing at the mention of it. I wouldn't let people celebrate it at work, for fear of becoming a shriveling heap of tears and mucous. But I have had time (39 days and one hour since I lost my job) to think about what birthdays mean. Carollyne's lung cancer was diagnosed when she was 45; she died at 47. Momma died when she was 50 and then Daddy at 60.

Carollyne has been gone for six years. The number 45 upset me. I keep aging and Carollyne doesn't, which is strange to me as the little sister. The things we had to endure together during that last year haven't gone away, and I push down thoughts that that could be me.

Enough of that &ellipses; I am 45 years old, and I am in the best physical shape I have ever been in. I don't smoke, I eat soybeans and I do imbibe occasionally during baseball games. I still play with toys (I love Play-Doh and Spirograph) and I laugh at "Christmas Vacation" until I feel incontinent. Forty-five feels pretty great!

So, Carollyne was laughing in the heavens as I experienced this revelation amid the laughing, happy faces at Clapp's. To these beautiful faces, age didn't matter, we all had on our festive outfits, munching on soft, buttery peppermints, singing right along with Cydney and Brianna to holiday tunes, amid the twinkling, holiday lights, living in the moment, the present, the best time of all.

Contact Larice at triadartlady@gmail.com to share your story. Check out her blog at http://lariceysroadwithaview. blogspot.com/