Forty Four for my next 44 Years

It's actually the day after my 44th birthday. Last night I was just too sick with an ear infection and sinus infection to post a blog. Maybe it was the fever, or maybe just the Nyquil, but I gave a lot of thought to how this birthday is different and what I want to be different in the future.

So here is my list of what I'd like to accomplish in my next 44 years:

1. Travel more
2. Dance more
3. Ride in a hot air balloon
4. Finally find a sun dress that doesn't make my butt look huge
5. Skydive
6. See the Grand Canyon
7. Not wait for special occasions to dress up
8. Swim with dolphins
9. Go on a cruise
10. Whale watching
11. Take an aerobics class in Los Angeles with Richard Simmons at his Slimmons Gym
12. Ride a cable car in San Francisco
13. Visit all 50 states
14. Have more fresh flowers in my house
15. Take a surfing lesson
16. Take ballroom dance lessons - thanks to a "bring a friend" offer I've already taken two free lessons. Maybe someday I'll be able to afford more lessons.
17. Be more spontaneous
18. Encourage my creative side to flourish
19. Publish my book (It's in the editing process now. I just need to devote more time to it)
20. Attend Summer Solstice in Times Square 
21. Finish my 500 hour RYT
22. Get back to a regular yoga practice again
23. Get back to a semi-regular meditation practice again
24. Stress less about finances
25. Make time to read more 
26. Redecorate my kitchen
27. Take more pictures
28. Walk more
29. Get a Labradoodle dog
30. Be able to afford a house cleaner
31. Watch my kids grow up to be healthy, productive adults
32. Stay healthy into my old age
33. Walk the beach more
34. Take more chances
35. Attend more live theater
36. Find a way to combine what I love to do with a way to support myself financially
37. Laugh more
38. See my book for sale on Amazon (see #19)
39. Be debt free
40. Care a little less what people think
41. Paint a baseball field onto my backyard
42. Take the kids to Disney World
43. Find balance 
44. Be happy

First Birthday Without My Mom

Dear Mom -

Today is my birthday. I'm 42, exactly 20 years younger than you were when you died. Maggie told me today she'll be 13 when I die. That means I only have 7 years left. I'm not all that concerned about her premonition considering her exact words were, "When I'm 13 you're going to die and can we have chicken nuggets for dinner?"

You'll be very glad to know Dad did a good job today. He called me this morning and offered to sing Happy Birthday, texted me later and his birthday card arrived in the mail today. Thank you for the check and yes I know it's to use on something just for me! No groceries or gas in the car. I already have a yoga workshop in mind I'll put it towards.

You'll also be glad to know Kim has taken over your job of forgetting the time difference and texting me very early in the morning. Not just on my birthday. Many early mornings my phone beeps and wakes me up before I'm ready. I tell her it annoys me but it makes me smile because it reminds me of you.

I made myself a chocolate mayonnaise cake for my birthday. I used to call you every year for the recipe and I remember last year you yelling at me to write it down. Did you know then I wouldn't be able to call you this year?

I almost started to cry making the cake. Not because I was making my own cake, and not because my little helpers were making a mess, but because you weren't here. I'm still kind of mad at you about that. And then when I was making the icing I hit the wrong button on the electric mixer and powdered sugar went flying everywhere. It's kind of funny now, but not then.

The cake didn't even taste that good. Maybe because I just wasn't into eating a cake I couldn't call you about, or maybe I'm just finally done my "leave me alone, I'm grieving so I'm going to over eat binge". Oh yeah, I've been on quite a binder. You wouldn't be so happy about that.

But my new friend Wanda told me it's how I grieve and I need to let myself do that. She keeps asking me if I've had a good cry and I'm sorry but I haven't. It was actually her idea that I begin writing letters to you.

You'd like Wanda. I wish you were still here so I could tell you about her. Although it's very interesting that she came into my life right after you left me. What's that saying? When the student is ready the teacher will come?

You taught me a lot, Mom. And not just about baking cakes. I guess now I need to move on and learn the lessons your death is supposed to teach me. Because eating this cake isn't teaching me anything except how many bites does it take to get a sugar headache.

It takes four.

Last year you would have told me that.