Today, is my birthday. I am 38 years old. Wow. Can’t believe that I’m here. Almost half of my years have been lived.
As I slept in this morning I found myself not wanting to get out of bed. The husband asked me what I was doing. My response? “I’m denying reality.”
Reality that it’s my birthday and my father will not call to wish me happy birthday.
Reality that I have 5 children to teach, care for and nurture. Reality that it’s harder than I thought it would be.
Reality that until 9 pm tonight I won’t have a moment alone. It’s a day of multiplication, writing, reading, playdates, horse lessons, dinner and gymnastics.
Reality that I feel lost right now. Loss of my father. Loss of my spiritual identity. Loss of friendships. Just overwhelming sense of loss.
At least the sun is shining. The chickens are adorable squawking at me. Honestly, there’s just something endearing about Snow’s fluffy white bottom bobbing all over that makes me giggle.
I do have to say I feel grateful for what I have. A husband who wakes me up to say happy birthday. 4 girls who are making me a breakfast complete with a nice cup of hot tea. Friends who have blown up my Facebook page with birthday wishes.
I guess what I’m saying is that turning 38 is bittersweet. I think I’m going to embrace that.