Turning 41 last week was no big deal - after all, I'd survived the dreaded 40th birthday, right? Last year, once I'd turned 40 I thought to myself "Ok, so this is it? I don't feel any different. What's the big deal, anyway?"
So 41 is just another year, really. One step closer to the dreaded 50 - now THAT sounds old. Although I'm sure when I get there, it will again not be as big a deal as I think it will be. I woke up on my birthday and thought to myself "YES! I'm 41 today - I made it through another year. I'm alive, I'm healthy, I have everything I need - great husband, kids who amaze me every day, a nice house, good job, etc. I am where I've always wanted to be. That must be what 41 is all about."
This then made me contemplate my other "one" birthdays and their significance in my life.
1st birthday: No one remembers their first birthday - but I'm sure it involved a highchair, a birthday cake, perhaps a silly birthday hat and lots of messy eating. I think I even have a photo of it somewhere. A child's first birthday is of course more exciting for the parents than for the child who has no idea what's going on except that for some reason they are allowed to eat a lot of really sweet, gooey stuff all at once. The parents are secretly thinking "Whew, we made it through the first year of parenthood and our child is still alive!! We did it!"
11th birthday: Hmm, this one I don't really remember either - although I can imagine at the age of 11 I was in that twilight zone of having one foot still firmly planted in childhood and the other tentatively reaching forward toward the pre-teen and teenage years. I'm sure I probably had a slumber party with my best friends, during which we probably built forts out of blankets and chairs and ate hot dogs and drank soda underneath. But of course, I'm just guessing.
21st birthday: I'm seeing a pattern developing here - for some reason I don't remember this one too well either! Perhaps it was all that wine that I drank on the banks of some canal in the Loire Valley in France overlooking a chateau, the name of which escapes me. I'd already been drinking legally in the pubs of London since the previous January, thanks to my semester abroad and the fact that the drinking age in Europe is a more realistic one of 18. I'm not sure why the U.S. chose the arbitrary age of 21 to allow people to drink legally. I think back to my 21st birthday and the fact that it was 20 years ago and I realize how incredibly young and immature I still was. I had no idea what life was all about, although I'm sure I thought I knew it all. After drinking lots of wine my friend Kim and I became stranded at said chateau when we realized that we'd missed the last train to the village where we were staying. After repeating the name of our village several times along with lots of gesturing and arm flailing we were finally able to convince the driver of a mini tour bus to take pity on us and drive our inebriated American butts back to where we were staying. Aaaah, the joys of youth.
31st birthday: Now adulthood was finally starting to hit me. On my 31st birthday I was 8 months pregnant with my son and on top of that, my husband and I had just purchased our first home and were getting ready to move. Talk about stress! To take our minds off the impending move and birth, John whisked me off to Middleburg, VA for a relaxing night in a B&B. How far I had come from that 21st birthday 10 years earlier - not only was I not drinking any alcohol but I think I went to bed around 9 p.m. due to the sheer exhaustion of walking around Middleburg in my very heavy state. The next morning we had one of those awkward breakfasts where the B&B owners sit you at a big table along with a bunch of strangers and you're forced to have small talk when you're not even awake yet. I had to answer a lot of the standard "pregnant lady" questions: "Oh, when are you due?" "What?? In a month? You're brave to be away from home right now!" "So what are you naming the baby?" "Is this your first?" "You don't look old enough to have a baby!!" (How old did they think I was anyway??????) Fortunately my husband is the type of person who can talk to anyone with great ease, so I pretty much passed the talking off to him and concentrated on eating my slice of melon and drinking the one cup of coffee I was still allowing myself to have every day.
41st Birthday: We had quite the night on my 41st birthday. We started off at a Cinco De Mayo happy hour that John was invited to through work - free margaritas, tequila tastings and fresh guacamole courtesy of Oyamel - mmmm. Then I sat at the bar at Jaleo for over half an hour by myself while John attempted to re-park the car and became trapped in a parking garage after the door closed behind him. I kept getting choppy phone calls from him during which I could hear every other word. "Stuck . . . can't . . . get . . . out . . . . . (silence)" To pass the time I decided to check my emails on my phone - ended up reading a heartfelt email from my Dad who was unable to call me for my birthday due to the fact that ALS has robbed him of his ability to speak - so of course this unexpectedly reduced me to tears right there at the bar. I tried to discreetly dab my eyes while thinking how I probably looked like I'd been stood up and was now crying into my Stella Artois. John finally showed up after escaping from the locked garage after two random women happened to swipe a card to open the garage door. We ended the evening at a new bar down the street drinking beer out of mason jars and making fun of the musician onstage who was wearing a grubby white undershirt with an abnormally low v-neck. He also sounded like he had marbles in his mouth every time he filled the space between songs with what he probably thought was witty banter.
So now at 41 I'm left to wonder - what will 51 be like? What does the future have in store for me? Ten years from now my son will likely be in college and my daughter will be a teenager. I can't even begin to imagine what that will be like. I'm also left to face what lies ahead for my dad as ALS continues to take away his ability to do the things we all take for granted - like breathing, speaking, eating, walking. How will my 40-something self handle all these changes, good or bad?
These things remain to be seen - but I do know this. As the years go by, I feel like each passing moment gives me the experience to be able to handle all of life's surprises, whether they are positive or negative. Even though I'm faced with uncertainty and likely hardships, I'm more comfortable with who I am and where I'm going than I ever have been before. I guess that's called growing up, right?
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