Somebody wise said that once, and I totally agreed.
Which is why I was rather sane when I turned 40 yesterday. I was OK. I did not freak out, or go out to buy one hundred pairs of shoes, as R feared I may. I did not look up plastic surgery of any sort. I patted my soft little middle aged belly and took a second helping of the chocolate hazelnut cake that comes from an amazing, small Romanian bakery, giving thanks to their existence and contemplated begging for an internship. Or just to lick the bowls.
It is a privilege to grow old, to add another digit to my number of living years. My birthday is so close to Thanksgiving it is hard to not feel grateful when it rolls around. I am glad to be alive and surrounded by my immediate family, I am glad to be able to cook and clean and breathe with them, to watch the girls grow and to hear the garage door grunt open every evening when R comes home from work. I am glad to be able to shiver with cold and mutter bitter complaints when I go out in this chilly weather. I finally understand why the sun was worshiped.
But I am not wise yet.
I still think, why can’t he be here too? Why not give me one more thing to be grateful for? I still hated it when the server at the French restaurant gushed about our three beautiful girls. How grateful I felt! And yet how I hated the convenience of the phrase “three girls”! I sat and wondered, if there was one boy in the mix, how would those strangers have expressed their admiration? Or perhaps they would be dismayed that I was robbing the world of more resources than I ought to. Maybe they think I have nothing better to do but to stuff the landfill with more stinky diapers. Perhaps someone will say, “How do you do it with four kids?!”, with an underlying note of hysteric. And I only wonder, How do I do it without my missing child?
Nothing to do but to move on, and deal with the silent ache.
And the worst thing is knowing that S is still missing her little brother. Recently I stumbled across a page in her drawing journal and saw that she had drawn a picture, with a sign that said “Lost Siblings”, then a stand with a girl sitting there, a sign over her head saying “Questions ask here” and on the ground is an oval, in the oval a boy with wings, shedding fat tears, his word bubble declaring, “I miss my family!”
Don’t we all miss you too, Ferdinand! How I wish you were here. I mean physically here.
:::
My dear friends, thank you if you still read here. I apologize for the scant internet presence. I vow that one day I will go back to my Reader again, and catch up. This is my precious little corner, where I can come and shed all the tears I want, and I am forever thankful for all of you who had listened and offered comforting words. I think, if you have not done that, I am not sure I would have lived to write about my 40th birthday (which was actually pretty uneventful). While my priorities have changed, your place in my heart haven’t. If you would like to exchange snail-mail with me, please contact me! Otherwise, I am sure one day we will meet again.
Oh my god, Janis. “I miss my family!” is too heartbreaking. How have we survived this? I still ask myself that question, even as I know the answer: what else can we do but survive it?
I had similar thoughts on Thanksgiving – such gratitude for a wonderful family and group of friends, a solid roof over my head and a warm bed to climb into, enough to eat on the table. And yet…just one more thing, please? One more tiny thing?
Thinking of you.
Sending all the love and light of the day to you on you 40th my friend…. Of course we miss you.. and think of Ferdinand more often than you know. Xo
This is beautiful. Your daughter’s drawing oh how that breaks my heart. It is nice to know you don’t miss Ferdinand alone. 40, well congratulations. I’m glad that it was filled with love and family -1.
I was at a bagel shop the other day and saw a family with an oldest boy, a smaller girl and a new baby girl. That should be my count. But all anyone sees is my two. I thought. How nice it must be to have 3 living children. People say 3 is so much harder than 2. Just like 3 is easier than 4. But I guarantee you that 2 when you should gave 3 is harder every single day then just plain old 3. Same with you 3 instead of 4. Ugh. Another woman saw my tiny daughter while I was walking with my son. She said a boy and a girl… How perfect. Yeah perfect, not so much. People have NO idea. Your 3 daughters they a magnificent but you will be forever missing Ferdinand.
Happy 40th! MMMMmmmm, cakkkkeeee, mmmmm
That drawing breaks my heart in a very dry Peanuts sort of way, which is about the level I operate on any given day, so yay. People say the dumbest things, honestly. I get the “Oooh, PERFECT! A boy AND a girl!” comment all. the. time. and I just want to shoot lasers from my eyeballs and scream, “PERFECT??!! Are you HIGH??” But I don’t.
I’m not sure I was grateful for 40 — I really hit bottom a few weeks past. But after hitting bottom it was an enormous release to know just the turn was in the rear-view mirror and over with and I could exhale and keep moving now. Sounds as though you’re in a much better place. Miss you, Janice. Hoping you’re well, considering. xo
Oh dear friend. I miss you terribly. I am so sad for you and little Miss S(or really bigger Miss S!). There is a spot in my heart too for your dear son. Love you. Oh, and 40 isn’t too bad. I have survived it since March.
Happy birthday, dear Janis. Always good to see a post from you in my Reader (& I am horribly behind on mine!). Your description of your daughter’s drawing was heartbreaking. 😦
Wonderful to still hear from you. Be assured many here connect with you on the lost something beyond precious level. I for one look forward to your words. After I read your posts , some little bitty, dusty , sparkly bits of inspiration somehow get taken away from each one.. : )
Beautiful
Hi piece of my heart. I turned 40 in November also. I am so glad you exist and that miraculously we have connected heart to heart without needing physical verification. I wish our boys could write us tiny love letters every so often. Our love is fierce and the flame can never be extinguished. I send you total understanding and unconditional love.
My sister.
I always love hearing from you, Wind. I was just thinking of you the other day…. how have you been?
xoxo Janis