44

Today is my 44th birthday, and I started it off with a bang. A complete and total meltdown with my kids, while trying to solo parent and get them out the door to school. And to be honest, it’s exactly what needed to happen.

I’ve dreaded my 44th birthday for years. It’s hard to say why… sometime long ago, I arbitrarily decided that 4 was a very unlucky number. I remember working at Cronos when they changed the address from 444 Market Street to One Front Street. My uncle told me that the reason was because many businessmen from different cultures refused to do business in the building because 4 was such an unlucky number. That stuck. I’ve always been wigged out when I catch the clock at 4:44, which is often. I don’t know… I realize this sounds crazy, but I’ve just hated it.

Years ago, when the kids were in preschool, I somehow managed to reframe the number 4. I decided that seeing the clock at 4:44 (which I did often because it coincided with school pickup) was a reminder to focus on my family, my 4. Like when you see 11:11 it’s a reminder to be present, 4:44 was a reminder to be present and focus on the 4 most important people my life – my family. I liked that, and it did change the number for me, but I’ve still looked with doom towards my 44th birthday.

I woke up this morning, determined to overcome and not let my ridiculousness get in my head. In working with the therapist these last few months, we talked a lot about that fine line between signs/omens/intuition and just straight up paranoia. I definitely ride that line. So I woke determined to set my intentions and not let fear guide this year. In fact, I open the sweetest gift from my boss last night – an aquamarine crystal bracelet. And the message that came with it was this: Aquamarine Healing Properties – Tranquility, Prophecy, Courage. With more details about it being calming, soothing, cleansing and inspiring truth, trust and letting go. Fearlessness. Protection. I can’t imagine a better and more perfect intention and source of strength for this year. And so I woke up with that on my mind, ready to take on the year.

With fear and worry niggling in the back of my head. And an edge of panic.

Grant refused to go to school because of a bad dream. I’ll spare the specifics but it escalated quickly and I burst into tears. Tears about how hard parenting is. How much I wanted a perfect day today. How much I miss my mom. My dad. How your parents are the ones that make your birthday the BEST day of the year for so many years, and mine are gone. They aren’t calling today. They aren’t telling me how proud of they are of me. They are gone. It still gobsmacks me.

And so I cried and cried. Mostly privately, but I also let the kids see it too – I think it’s ok for them to know how much I miss my mom and dad. And that life is hard for adults too. And that we have to help each other get through tough things together. And that while mommy and daddy are in control and will keep them safe, we have feelings too. And that we have a responsibility to each other to take care of one another, even across the lines of parent and child.

It felt really good if I’m being honest. Even though it was a shitty way to start the day.

I realized this morning that 44 is the age that my dad was when he got sick. I hadn’t put that together until now. I wonder if that is part of it. (duh) That all my worry about myself, my own health, my own panic about mortality … it started with my dad. It was always the worst case scenario with him and now I project that onto myself.

A long time ago Dawn told us that nothing is permanent or set in stone. Meaning just because the future looks one way at one time, it can always be changed. Choices and intentions can always shift the way the world plays out. I’ve always taken great comfort in that – believing nothing is certain, there is no one set path. You do have control, at least some.

I adore the bracelet I received so much. I will wear it this year and focus on truth, trust and letting go. On courage to be the best version of myself. On tranquility and choosing the calm, even when the storms are wild. On cleansing – facing these deep seeded fears and releasing the next layer, because letting go entirely isn’t realistic. But a layer at a time is progress. On letting people help me. On my family – my most important 4 – being present and entirely theirs. On letting go of the worry, the fear, the panic.

Because let’s face it, 43 wasn’t exactly a cake walk and I didn’t see ANY of that coming.