Earning Forty Three

One side effect of cancer?

I will never take another birthday for granted again.

Yesterday I turned 43.  I've never been one to make a big deal about getting older. Birthdays don't bother me as far as the whole "don't tell anyone how old you are" thing. I wear my age like a badge of honor.  I've earned forty-three, and all the wisdom, scars and lessons that come with age.

Now birthdays feel like the gift they should have felt like all along, I suppose.  Now I get to turn forty-three.

It was an incredible day, full of fun, sun and family.  We are out at our beach cottage (it's totally off the grid, no electricity, only solar power and a generator and propane to run the appliances) so the kids aren't plugged into anything.  We play games, lounge on the beach, have frivolous and soulful conversations.  The kids can run freely outside with no worry of abductors or getting lost.  It's as close to what I remember childhood feeling like as we can get (barring the fact that I have wi-fi from a hotspot on my phone and can plug a computer into the generator to blog.  Cause a girl's gotta blog).

The cousins came out to celebrate, and watching them run wild through the wide open space fills my heart with happiness.

I spent a lot of time doing this:

And this:

At the end of the day, we had cake and ice cream.  And my throat is well enough now that I could eat them both. So I had three helpings:

And saw the most beautiful sunset - a big ball of fire sinking below the horizon:

Before dinner, there was a brief rainstorm, so we even had a rainbow (the only thing missing in these pictures is a unicorn, it was that unbelievably gorgeous):

There was this awesome card from Greta, too: 

"Thank you so much for doing all the nice things you do to us. Like make us dinner and mabe [sic] get 
us a pet goat?  You made it through all.   Love, Greta"

My favorite line? "You made it through all".

I did. And it would be easy to write about what a tough year it has been, how I deserved and wanted a terrific birthday.  But these days I try not to look back too much. I try not to look too far forward, either, wonder about forty-four, or think thoughts like "If I had known when I turned 42 what this year would be like...", but of course I sometimes do. 

Mostly, though, I try to lean into the moment.  And when I say "try", I really mean "try".  It's hard. I have a lot of work to do.

The self-care I'm focusing on is helping.  I'm still meditating, going to group counseling for cancer survivors, taking a yoga class for cancer patients/survivors, talking to safe people who understand. The anxiety is still there, peeking around the corner, waiting.  Instead of running from it or trying to pretend it's not there, I give it a little wave (hello, anxiety) and try to honor it as part of me. As much as joy, gratitude and hope are part of me, too.

The gratitude is coming back, and days like yesterday help a lot.  I am a lucky woman indeed.