This IS Forty....

My co worker's wife died the afternoon before Christmas Eve.  She leaves behind an enormous family, amazing husband, and two children, 10 and 14.  It's not supposed to be this way. Ever.  For me, grief is a very private thing.  I know many people don't agree with me, or even bother to understand, but unless I know the person extremely well, I do not usually go to services.  And after feeling the tears on my cheeks fall as I drove to the bank to unsuccessfully resolve an issue, I reconfirmed that I had no business being at the wake tonight.  It is highly unlikely that I'd be able to keep it together for my friend, his children, and all the people who truly loved her, all over a woman I had never met.  Which is puzzling to me because although I am extremely empathetic, I can usually compartmentalize and get through any situation in tact. But for some reason, her death magnifies my own mortality for me.  In truth, the doctors still have no idea why I feel the way I do.  There was hope that the surgery would ultimately fix the bulk of the issues, but now two months out, my hair is back to falling out in handfuls, my hands are going ice cold and painfully numb, and the sharp random pains throughout my abdomen still stop me in my tracks. In truth, they still have no idea what is wrong with me, and I'm afraid that when/if they do, it might be something unfixable.

When I sat down to write this, it was supposed to be my annual year in review post.  I scrolled through the months and realized I hadn't written much.  My year, for the most part has been a chronicle of my forty before 40 adventures which, while no where near forty, were pretty amazing.

In January I witnessed the best practical joke ever, and while I did not participate, I did snap a picture.  In February, we got pelted with astronomical amounts of snow, delaying me in my quest to become the worst parent ever.   Not swayed in my determination though, I did manage to allow them dangerously close to the world's largest hole in the ground.

March found digging ourselves out from under piles of snow sending us straight to April, when I  sent myself and Youngest down the river, over class 4 rapids. I also left him in the woods while I went into town to enjoy a fantastic dinner of scallops and vegetables I had never heard of before, while drinking blueberry soda, in a small nondescript restaurant in the basement of a bookstore.  There is no evidence of that though, since I ate it all.  Then, later in the month, I decided to try and kill my husband by disguising another vacation with home renovations.

In May we participated in a walk for Parkinson's, and judging by the Italian pastries and pizza they served, we will likely be making this our newest found cause to walk for. Because while we truly want to see an end to this horrible disease, a little sugar to keep us going doesn't hurt either, I mean, come on... there's no pizza waiting for us at the end of a 5K. In June I put myself out there, and was rejected (for the first time ever) by an old friend on Facebook.  (It's okay, I'm over it now.)  I also made a second attempt at killing my husband by installing a walkway in the front, and attempted to give up sugar... again.  July found me running all over town "sharing" random acts of kindness while August found me splurging for the good seats, and meeting the band.  August found me trying to kill my husband (again) with a new patio out back, a road trip to Virginia, and a stay in a haunted house.

September found me scrambling to recover money that had been stolen from my bank account compliments of the Home Depot security breech, and as if that wasn't fun enough, I decided to take the kids kayaking.  October was the big month in which I was supposed to finish off my forty list, but since all the money had been spent for my Mediterranean cruise, Bermuda was hit by a nasty hurricane making flying in for my birthday weekend impossible, and the pumpkin festival I have always wanted to go to in Keene NH was ransacked by rioters, it left me only one option... landing in the hospital for six days and having an organ removed.  November left me home, healing, and resisting the urge to build with Legos.

And here we are now in December, still searching the bottom line of what ails me, wondering what the year ahead will bring. But if this year has taught me nothing, it's that everything can literally change in an instant.  We can lose days, even weeks of our lives by dismissing that little voice inside ourselves as trivial.  So while the world is making resolutions of things to do differently, I am resolving to not miss anything.  To continue seizing opportunities that come our way, find alternate ways to heal, and to stop putting off things and people that I could do or see tomorrow.

I will never know how much time I have.  I may live to be 99. But for now,

this is my forty,

and I intend to use each and every day of it.