Today, June 7th, 2019, is my 35th birthday. I’m writing from a chair on the back deck of my parent’s house in Ontario, Canada. The weather is much like what it was two weeks ago back in Las Vegas: mid-70s. It’s glorious.
It’s strange to be back here so soon. We left only six weeks ago, a few days after my mother’s funeral. Yet here I am, celebrating a birthday in my childhood home thousands of miles away from my husband, without my mom.
I woke up much too early this morning feeling groggy and unsure what time zone my body was existing in. DJ and I flew in last night, got to bed late. We will be asleep the moment our heads hit our pillows tonight, that is for sure. Right now, DJ and my dad are across the street watching a neighbor have his driveway re-paved. Anything involving big trucks is a big hit with him.
Tonight I will be having dinner with some of my oldest friends—and some newer though just as dear. I’m grateful for these women who have always been there when I needed them, who supported me in the last days of my mother’s life in ways that I cannot put in words. I don’t know who I would be without these four women.
I feel blessed to be here celebrating my 35th surrounded by my family and friends. I left Kitchener over eight years and four months ago, not really knowing what I was getting myself into. All I knew was I loved Dominic, wanted to marry him and start a family, and I was willing to give Las Vegas a try. I celebrated my last eight birthdays there, each of them perfect in their simplicity, but being here in my hometown, celebrating what I consider to be one of the “big” birthdays feels right.
I was so worried about turning thirty, and here I am, thirty-five. It’s not so bad; these years that are adding upon one another. I like to think that with each passing year I’m wiser, more patient, more sure of myself. I feel as though I’m still looking alright, too. All in all, I’m okay with my age. I have so much of what I wanted out of life and what I don’t? Well that gives me something to strive for.