A milestone birthday

This wasn’t the post I had planned for this month. I was going to write about the excitement of entering the month of May, my mind turning to the fun new plants I’d find for our home, my body turning toward the warmth of the sun. But then I remembered.

I turn 43 today.

This may not seem like much of a milestone age — there’s nothing special about the number itself, and it clearly doesn’t end in 0 or 5 — but this year is going to be a strange one for me. A little more heavy, surreal, and morbid than usual.

My biological mother passed away at age 43.

I’m not sure what more I want to say about this. Over the past few years, I’ve done a lot of soul searching and I’ve made many tiny shifts in my life so I could better appreciate each day. And for the most part, it’s worked. I’m happier and more at peace than I have been in over a decade.

Instead of trying to find the words for this post, I recorded myself reading a piece I started a couple of years ago. It’s a piece about coming of age, memories, and perspective. It’s a piece that explores my relationship with my biological mom in a way that’s provided me with a bit of closure. Above all, it’s a piece that has helped me come to terms with not having all the answers, how things change over time, and the brevity of life.