Dear Me and You, Birthday Blues

Dear Me and You, 

My birthday, my 40th birthday, is a few days away. And I’m having some feelings. But probably not the feelings you would suspect. I’m not worried about the gray hairs, or the deeper line in between my brows, or even the fact that my periods are starting to change. And it’s not even the fact that recovery time– from anything– takes longer and I’m having to plan accordingly and make different choices; I’m learning that red wine and a rib eye after 7:00 PM say hello to me again about 2:00 AM… and yet, that’s not a choice I’m ready to change. 

All of these things are to be expected. All of these things are reminders of the life I have lived, and the fact that I’m still living– in both senses; like I’m actually living and I’m enjoying living. 

I’ve been feeling… sad. 

I’ve been feeling… grief.

I’ve been feeling… loss.

I’ve been feeling… angry.

These are constants. And normally, my tools are enough to keep me present, happy, and focused on what I have, what I want, and why I set boundaries. But with this milestone birthday approaching… 

The waves of these feelings are large, and catching a breath is hard. 

I haven’t seen my dad since the end of 2019. So, he’s missed a few birthdays. And yet, this one feels different. Perhaps, because I know he would’ve wanted to throw a party, he would’ve taken advantage of my milestone to have all his friends over. He would’ve been beaming and bragging about me, of course, while simultaneously reminding everyone that he “Wasn’t sure if I was going to get my shit together,” or chuckling as he grabs me around the back of the neck saying, “This one gave me all my gray hairs,” or making a toast to his “Demon seed!” So my party would have been his, and I would have been showing a smile but I would have been sad and angry, and I’m sure the night would have ended with some vile moment that would trump any of the shiny ones. 

And yet, I’m deeply grieving. 

I’ve created a family that I adore, that I damn near worship because they are all the things I would have wanted for myself. I watch my girls engage with one another, hoping that their relationship is healthy, loving, and reciprocal until they take their last breath. I hope that my lack of relationship with my sister doesn’t somehow impact or empower them to lose one another. 

Because as my birthday approaches and I’m finalizing plans with a group of amazing women, it’s painfully obvious to me that my sister is not part of the group, or my plans, or my life. One of my biggest challenges is holding my boundaries, especially with my sister because we were raised on the “blood is thicker than water” and “La Familia uber alles!”, which translates to: The family over all; a nod to our Mexican and German roots. And you see this idea everywhere, or at least I notice it everywhere: books, movies, tv shows, other families, etc. It’s overwhelming and also wrong. 

I teach the girls that nobody has permission to treat them poorly, nobody has permission to use them, or consistently hurt them, or disappoint them, or not be accountable, or abuse them– nobody. I also teach the girls about boundaries, that feelings are okay, how to apologize, and that empathy is a superpower. 

I just got done crying. My husband listened to me. The girls came in, covering me with their blankets and stuffies. They asked, “Why are you crying?” And at first my instinct is to say, “Nothing, I’m fine.” But that’s a lie. And that would be treating them as if they were not capable humans. I told them, “I have some big feelings, and I need to acknowledge them and let them out of my body.” This answer was sufficient for the younger two… my seven year old wasn’t accepting this as the answer. She pressed on, “But why are you having big feelings?” 

I hesitate to answer with any more information because I don’t want the kid to feel like she has to take care of me, or worry, or support me through my feelings. I had to do that for my mom and it has an impact. And, I don’t want to lie because I’m a human that is allowed to experience and express feelings– even big and sad and ugly ones. So I tell her, “I’m sad that my family isn’t what we have. And sometimes it makes me more sad than I’m prepared for.” 

I never would have guessed that I’d be celebrating my 40th birthday without my dad or my sister. And that’s life, we can’t know what it will be, and we certainly can’t control what it will be… and that’s a hard fucking truth. And a great lesson:

We have to just live life, the way it’s put out in front of us, putting forth some effort to improve ourselves and our choices, with the intent to impact our lives positively. 

We made it through another day, me and you.

Kudos.