I’ve not been looking forward to this number for quite some time. Which one might think is odd since I’m not really a *number* girl. I didn’t need to be *anything* by *any particular age* however at age 35…my mom because a young widow with two teenage children.
At age 35.
My age. Right now. A widow. With two teenage children.
Impossible for me to wrap my head around. How am I that age?
My dad passed when he was only 44.
God, these ages are no longer in the future, they are the very real here and now. And it’s scary.
I have two cats, a job (and a 1/4th) that I’m professionally satisfied with, amazing groups of friends, more best friends than any one person deserves, a community I’m proud to be a part of…many blessings.
And at this exact same age my mom lost her husband who she was married to for 17 years and was left with two teenage children. No job. No money. No career. Just her children.
I swore to God growing up that I never wanted to be in the position my mother was. I would never get pregnant young and get married at 18. I would never be so needy as to be dating someone else a month after losing a husband and getting married to someone else less than a year. Nope, not me. Not the road I was going down.
And I didn’t. But now? It’s the road I wish desperately to travel down…I want to find someone and have a family too and somehow, I’m still lost and wandering up the never ending, lonely trail. I think I have so much to offer to someone else, and yet I offer NONE of this kindness towards myself. I’m stuck. And don’t want to be stuck anymore.
Of course, 35 is also the age that women are told their ovaries start drying up and those who want to have children someday are thrown into a frenzied panic. I’m not so worried about the fertility part. I am however worried about finding someone to have a family with part, which is the one thing I realized this year that I really, really wanted with Mark. And in my pretend moments, I thought I would be trying for a family shortly after my birthday—the new year. Today. And after being together for three years, I was hoping he wanted the same thing.
And we all know how that turned out.
So yes, this birthday is bittersweet for many reasons.
And yes, I’m glad to be on the other side and thankful for a new year filled with new beginnings, such as being old enough to become president.
Although I know I don’t want that, however I still could make an excellent political wife. And you know, perhaps be Senator of New York someday.