More Birthdays Please!

Today I am grateful for another birthday. I am also grateful for the growing pains of adulthood that remind me I still have much to figure out, but also that I am ALIVE.

I am thinking about the firefighters who died earlier this week, about Mark Weber, about the 56-year-old woman who died at a Twin Cities park after a tree fell on her while she and a friend were out walking her dog. They don't get any more birthdays. I pray for their grieving families.

I hope I have many more birthdays so I can continue to delve into life's mysteries and my own personal mysteries and challenges. Last year on my birthday, I titled my post "Better Older than Deader." You can read it here.  Truth is, none of us know how many birthdays we will get, how many days we will get. That thought alone should help me approach each new day with gratitude for its arrival. That is what I try to do.

Five years ago when I was awaiting my first surgery for breast cancer, I had several weeks of gripping fear and anxiety, and my first real look at my own mortality. On my 43rd birthday, I wrote this poem:

Happy F’in Birthday

I woke up on this
My 43^rd birthday
Feeling emotional
And angry
Not typical
Birthday fare for me

My recent birthdays
Have tended to be
Celebrations of
The gifts of family
Marriage
Motherhood

Even moreso
A celebration
Of physical health
And strength
A self-image
Like none I had before

But this year
Cancer has put
A damper on
The celebration

Happy F’in 43^rd

My first birthday
Since my
Cancer diagnosis

So much

Fear
Uncertainty
A shattered
Sense of security
Physical health
In question

The past year

Was good
In so many ways
What is in
Store for me
In the year
Ahead?                       

(7/6/08)

I was afraid. I was wandering around many dark places in my mind. I was one big ball of tension. I was angry that this was happening, that I had been thrown this curve ball called cancer.

On my 44th birthday, I wrote this poem:

Redemption
I boxed up
The fear
And sent it
On its way
Now
It only comes
For brief visits
I don't allow it
To linger

I sent anger
Packing too
It didn't go
With my decor
Bad color
Definitely
Not a match

I invited
More acceptance
In
It's a good fit
It goes well
With everything

(7/6/09)

Proof of some personal growth. Proof that cancer has been a catalyst in my life. Proof that acceptance is always a requisite for moving on.

On this, my 48th birthday, no poem, just some thoughts. I am thinking about my stepchildren heading into adulthood, and my son heading further into middle school. I am thinking about my husband, our marriage, our jobs, our dreams for our lives as we grow older. I am thinking about my health, running goals, writing aspirations. I am thinking how grateful I am for what I have learned, often the hard way, over these 48 years, and I put out this sincere wish "More birthdays please!"