It’s my birthday today. And it’s snowing like crazy. And for anyone that knows me, they know I LOVE snow. Like, LOOOOOOOVE it. So, yay for me. 🙂

Birthdays look different to me now. 

Today’s “Memory in Photos” was a gut punch. I remember thinking as soon as I was told my cancer was advanced and would require aggressive treatment, that I was going to be bald for my birthday. That was more than I could take. I was going to ring in Year 38 amputated, bald, sick, poisoned, all in hopes that I would get to see 39. Let alone, 40. 

There was a time in my mid-thirties that I was bitter that 40 was getting closer. I felt in my prime and I wanted to stay young. I wanted to stay blissfully ignorant to aging. I wanted to pretend death wasn’t a part of life. I cringed at the thought of 40, thinking that everything good came to an end on day 364 of 39. 

Silly me. 

Turns out, time wins every.single.time even if I play my best game against it. I’m not entirely sure why I believed 40 was such a thing to resent. Some privilege to think that I was exempt from the laws of time, I guess. I’ll be honest, though, I still don’t ooze love for birthdays. Hearing the words, “you have cancer” recalibrates a lot of things and yes, having brunch with Death changed me from taking life for granted like I once did, but here is a hard truth: when these feet hit the floor in the morning, two realities come with that. 1. The gift that it is to survive. And 2. The burden of it. 

Both are heavy.
Both are valid.
Both are real.

The Collective We perpetuate the messages of “life is short” and “live with urgency” and “YOLO” and while there is underlying truth in each of those sentiments (again, I know from having dined with Death), life is also long between now and when it ends, whenever that end is. The Groundhog Day effect is real. Days seem endless sometimes. Yet things happen in blinks of eyes.

For me, when everything changed, everything changed. I don’t live out in front like I once did because I can’t. That changes the way I live, dream, hope, strive. In many ways it’s better to live so presently present. But in others, it’s so hindering. I don’t live thinking about time in the same way I once did because I can’t. That changes the way I see age and wisdom and influence. In many ways, it’s better to live timeless. But in others, it’s super ambiguous. I don’t live conventionally like I once did because I can’t. That changes the way I see purpose and authenticity and reality. In many ways, it’s better to live out of bounds. But in others, it’s very isolating.

So, birthdays are strange now. They accentuate all of the chaos that it is to live with cancer, and they underscore the sheer complexity it is to survive. I feel so grateful for each one. I also feel guilty. And selfish. And hopeful. And fearful. And surrounded. And lonely. And worthy. And misunderstood. I feel like I’m simultaneously friendly with Life and running desperately away from Death. But also, that I’m friendly with Death and running desperately away from Life. I want to keep having birthdays because I get to live life with my favorite people, but the price is astronomically high to do so. It’s all very confusing.

So today is my birthday. I’m glad I made it beyond 40 cuz I’ve lived days where I wasn’t so sure it would happen. I love my story. It’s also been a really treacherous one. My resilience is weary. My grief is loud. My footing is uncertain. But it’s snowing. And I LOVE snow. So there’s that.

There’s also this: I’m deeply grateful for today. Happy 43. I won’t squander the gift, in all of its BothAnds. 

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So….I was just about to post this and my doorbell rang. I rarely answer the door when I’m home alone but I did this time. And it was MY KID!!!!!! She surprised me and came home from college A DAY EARLY and surprised me for my birthday. I opened the door and there she was with her teammate and it took my brain a hot second to put two and two together. MY KID.