Apparently, I’m Still Taking the Scenic Route.
Today is November 1.
My birthday.
I have completed another trip around the sun, and apparently my reservation has been extended.
There should probably be a confirmation email. Perhaps a complimentary upgrade. At the very least, a clear itinerary and some indication of whether the next stretch includes financial stability.
But here we are.
Another year begins, and I am still figuring things out.
My Calendar Has an Unusual Turnaround Time
Yesterday was October 31, the anniversary of Jay’s death.
Today is my birthday.
That is a considerable emotional distance to cover between midnight and breakfast.
One day holds memories of losing my husband. The next marks the beginning of another year of my own life.
There is no overnight reset. Whatever I felt yesterday may still be here this morning, alongside whatever today brings.
I can miss him and appreciate a birthday message.
I can feel grateful to be here and wish he were here, too.
I can laugh, eat cake, and have a quiet moment without any of those things requiring an explanation.
My calendar puts these dates next to each other. I get to decide how gently I move between them.
I Am Glad I Am Here
Life has been difficult in ways I never would have selected.
I have experienced loss, caregiving, uncertainty, and the peculiar exhaustion of trying to build a future while also handling everything that needs attention today.
There are things I wish were different.
There are people I wish I could hear from.
There are plans I am still working to make possible.
And I am glad I am here.
I still have curiosity. I still have ideas. I still find things funny, sometimes at moments when a more dignified person might manage a neutral expression.
There are conversations I want to have, places I want to see, and things I want to learn.
There is more life I would like to experience.
That feels worth celebrating.
This Is Not Exactly the Itinerary I Imagined
At various points in life, I had ideas about what the future would look like.
Some were practical. Some were hopeful. Some depended on circumstances remaining reasonably cooperative, which, in retrospect, was an ambitious assumption.
I did not plan to become a widow.
I did not imagine all the ways caregiving and loss would shape my work, finances, relationships, and sense of what comes next.
I also could not have predicted the advocacy, the writing, or the people I would meet along the way.
The life I am living contains things I never wanted and things I have come to value deeply.
A birthday gives me a moment to look at that honestly.
I can appreciate what I have built while acknowledging what it took to get here.
I Would Like a Little Less Character Development
I understand that difficult experiences can teach us things.
I have learned a great deal.
I am now prepared to consider an educational program involving fewer emergencies.
For the coming year, I would welcome opportunities to grow through travel, interesting conversations, meaningful work, and perhaps an enjoyable afternoon that does not later become an important lesson in resilience.
I believe I have completed several prerequisites.
Possibly enough for transfer credit.
There is value in the strength I have developed. I would also like more occasions to use it for something enjoyable.
My Birthday Wish List Is Fairly Practical
I would like meaningful paid work (or win the lottery so I can make my own).
The kind that allows me to use my skills, contribute, and pay my bills with something more reliable than determination.
I would like more financial breathing room.
More genuine connection.
More laughter that catches me by surprise.
I would like the people I care about to have good days, useful support, and fewer reasons to worry.
I would appreciate enough stability to make plans because I want to do something, rather than constantly calculating whether I can manage it.
And yes, I would enjoy a little adventure.
There are places beyond my desk, the grocery store, and whichever meeting room I am trying to locate this week. I would like to visit some of them.
I Am Grateful for the People Along the Way
To the people who check in, remember, encourage, and make room for me: thank you.
To the people who read the blog, share something useful, send a job lead, make an introduction, or simply make me laugh: thank you.
And to the people who see a whole person behind the advocacy and the story, I appreciate that more than you may realize.
I have opinions, ambitions, interests, and a sense of humor that often requires supervision.
It means something when people remember those parts of me, too.
A birthday is a good time to acknowledge the relationships that make life warmer.
Some people have been here for years. Others arrived more recently. Their kindness has helped shape the year I am leaving behind.
There Is Still Room for New Things
I do not have every next step settled.
I am looking for work. I am continuing to write. I am asking questions, learning, and trying to build a life with enough room for both responsibility and enjoyment.
Sometimes progress is visible.
Sometimes it looks like trying again after a discouraging week.
Sometimes it is finally admitting that something needs to change, even before I know exactly how.
I would like this next year to include positive possibilities I cannot see yet.
A useful introduction. An opportunity that fits. A friendship that grows. A plan that begins to feel possible.
I have had enough unexpected developments to know that I cannot predict everything.
I would be delighted if the universe would apply that principle to a few pleasant surprises.
I Do Not Have to Earn Every Good Moment
Advocacy gives me purpose. I care about the work and the people affected by it.
But I am allowed to have a life around that work.
I can enjoy an afternoon without turning it into content.
I can rest without producing evidence that I have reached an acceptable level of exhaustion.
I can celebrate something personal while important problems remain unresolved.
Those problems will, with remarkable dependability, still exist tomorrow.
Today, I can answer a birthday message, enjoy something I like, and let that be enough for a little while.
If cake is involved, I see no reason to complicate matters.
About Those Candles
I will be acknowledging the occasion without providing an exact candle count.
Some information can remain between me, the bakery, and the appropriate fire authorities.
Another year has brought more experience, a few revised priorities, and an increasingly selective willingness to spend time on nonsense.
I still have plenty to learn.
I am also getting better at recognizing when a situation requires my attention and when I can wish everyone well from a safe distance.
That feels like useful progress.
Another Year Begins
Yesterday, I remembered Jay.
Today, I remember myself.
Today, I mark the beginning of another year of my own life, carrying my love for him with me.
I am here with hopes I still want to pursue, work I still want to do, and plenty of curiosity about what might come next.
I do not have a polished five-year plan to unveil.
I have a desire for meaningful work, steady ground, good company, and more moments that make me glad I showed up.
For today, that is a good place to begin.
Happy birthday to me.
Another trip around the sun starts now.
I have requested fewer administrative obstacles and better snacks.
