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Reflections on a birthday

Photo by Nikhita Singhal on Unsplash

Even though I knew it was a joke, I kind of expected the big “forty two” to provide some answers.

It didn’t, really.  Sure, I continued to heal from a past trauma, I continued to keep doing what I’d been doing, but… well, it didn’t feel like there were answers.

Toward the end of the middle of my forty-second trip around the sun, I met someone.  And that was a good thing bigger than anything else.  I thought, maybe, this was going to be a sign of a better year.

It was not a better year.

My forty-third trip around the sun – well, like many people, the end of 2016 and most of 2017 was pretty crap overall.  The nice moments were overwhelmed by mountains of debt piling up on either side, by the problems and sudden unpleasant changes suffered by my friends and loved ones, by the horrors of this administration.

But through it all, there have been some positive constants.  B, my loveable spiky floof, and her ongoing journey of self-discovery.  My other relationships – new and old – which have provided joy and a check to make sure that I’m not being an idiot. My friends – in all communities – who have shown that they care, even when I’m not being the best friend possible.  My son, who’s being pretty level headed about getting things together and moving on with his life.

I have no idea where year forty four is going to take me.  I have no idea if it’s going to be better or worse than the last trip around the sun.  Money is an issue.  There’s been big transitions in my relationships. I don’t know if I’m going to keep publishing or not.

But if I have the loves and friends and family that I’ve had this last year?

I’ll be okay.

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  1. Happy Birthday! I was disappointed to not get the answers at 42, too.
    And my advice from a well-meaning stranger, you may choose to stop publishing, for a bit or forever, but don't ever stop writing.
    Best Wishes – Ms