My birthday has become about loss. I cannot separate my birthday from my sister's death...they are intricately connected. For me, my birthday has become a time of reflection and not celebration. A time to consider what's important, what is worthy of a response and what isn't. Who are my priorities and who are not. Where/when/how I invest my time and emotions.
I am now older than my sister, which is extremely difficult for me. For two reasons: simply because I'm old and because it seems very odd that I've aged beyond my sister.
For years, the time between Thanksgiving and christmas has been a time of reflection, of solitude, of NON celebration. In a way, Thanksgiving is the last meal before a month of fasting. One year, I spent my birthday stocking up and made a commitment to spend nothing for the entire month of December. The one exception was fuel for my car so that I could get to work. It was a really good month and very much brought into focus how conspicuous consumerism is pushed so hard, especially at this time of year.
This year has been strange, difficult, full of learning, forced many of us to slow down, stay home, be reminded of what we really need. We've all been given the opportunity to see who we really want to see and speak to when social options are so limited. You never know who you're going to be when times are hard...unless you know who you are when times are not hard. Because that's who you are. That's who I am. We are who we are. Hard times don't make us who we are, they show us who we are.
In addition to a world wide health crisis, I've had a personal health crisis which provided me the opportunity to ask myself hard questions. How have I lived? How do I want to live in the future? How do I want to die? Is there something in my past I've really avoided dealing with and need/want to? Are there people in my life I really don't want in my life? Is there anybody who isn't in my life that I miss and very much want to mend those relationships?
While I've done some pretty cringe worthy things in my life, my life has been worth living. I've loved my kids with my entire soul and that in and of itself has made life worth being here. It's always been my contention that our children - without even trying - show us the best and worst of who we are. The incredible anger that can bubble up at person who can't even walk or talk...the insane amount of patience to answer 'why' 9,000 times in one day...the sheer will to keep going when exhaustion is overwhelming...the courage to apologize when you've messed up and it impacts them negatively...the straight face you have to keep when you actually feel like laughing heartily over something they think is soooo important and you realize that this 12 year old has no idea how inconsequential this really is...the most joy and passion ever experienced...the ability to be hurt to your core by the things they say TO you and ABOUT you...the power they have to incite guilt over the most mundane decision...the absolute love and joy when you hold your baby's baby...the emotions these people invoke are endless and the highest of the highs and the lowest of the lows and everything in between.
This year, with my birthday a week away, the state back on socially restrictive measures, life being all kinds of weird and the future - at best - shaky, my plan is to celebrate. To have a hugely amazing meal with my family on Thanksgiving, to give thanks that even though I've taken some very wrong turns and made quite a mess of my life at times, I'm still here. There's still an opportunity to recover, to learn, to grow, to laugh, to love and to celebrate.
