Today I turn 41. I strongly dislike odd numbers therefore being this age I have already found disagreeable. Then.... the day continued on and I can safely say it has probably been my worst birthday.
The night before we returned from a week of travel visiting both sides of the family with the van loaded with presents and dirty laundry. After getting in late with three grumpy children to put in bed I then tried to make the effort of unloading our possessions in the pouring rain. When that proved ridiculous at 1:30 am I made my way to bed.
The next morning, my birthday, I was non-stop go making breakfast, getting laundry started, collecting old has-been toys to replace with recently acquired Christmas treasures, but there was SO MUCH STUFF! It was frustrating to know where to begin, yet be somewhat sneaky removing the overlooked items while no young eyes were watching. In the meantime the kids were running around the house on their new bikes or roller skates or roaming from one activity to the next as I nervously stash a stuff animal in a box for the thrift store hoping not to be discovered.
While I'm running up and down the stairs in between laundry cycles my husband keeps telling me to take it easy for my birthday. He is saying this with a stiff neck only able to turn by moving his whole body. He somehow injured his shoulder muscle that shoots agonizing pain through his neck to his shoulder for the slightest incorrect movement. Therefore, to maintain my sanity amongst all the clutter I unload the car rummaging through all the things as a form of triage.
It's obvious no one in my household had planned a birthday celebration, but this is typical for a birthday that so closely follows Christmas. I'm use to it. How many times have I heard "This is your Christmas present and your birthday." And then I'm getting older leaving little reason to want to recognize how old I am. Yet, at the same time some recognition to say "Your worth it," would be nice too. Not having to hear the Vikings sing "Its your birthday," or notice my daughter engrossed in a magazine rather than singing 'Happy Birthday,' or my other daughter about to have a conniption fit because she's not close to the table, or not having a present to open, or annoyed by the amount of cardboard that keep piling up.
Then I call my cousin who shares my birthday as well. He is more like an uncle. Two and a half years ago he lost his grown son, his best friend, in a tragic kayaking accident. His son was more like a first cousin to me merely four years younger. After making my greetings his voice is recognizably melancholy unable to have his son share time celebrating his birthday. The grief is all too overwhelming and never seems to ease. I don't have that kind of emptiness
.
Moments like this I realize I should shut up and be grateful. My son is full of energy and laughter. My youngest daughter quickly learned balance on her bike today. My oldest put together her first Lego carefully inspecting the directions. She also made her first attempt at roller skates. Yes, the house is loud and dirty. Yes, the best part of my day was walking in the woods with just me and my dog. Yes, we made it through 2020 unscathed. And I have all my dearest people alive and well. I must remember I have nothing to complain about. But I ramble and so here are my feelings.
I know I am blessed. I know I am loved. I know this can be a year of great growth if I keep my eyes focused on God.
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