Celebrating 40!

It is with tear stained eyes that I write this post.  A dream come true trip to Italy for my 40th birthday and 40 days of being celebrated leading up to my actual BIRTH-day.  Wow!  I could pinch myself.  And still with all that goodness I would sum up this birthday by saying it was bittersweet.  In January, on exactly the 14th, the party started.  Husband Jared and Thing 3 surprised me with cards entailing exactly what would be taking place on the daily.  Presies, little notes and what not to commemorate my upcoming milestone birthday.  I had done the same for Husband Jared's 40th and I was beyond thrilled for this.  Because gifts are my love language.  Yes they are!  I kept a log of all the sweetness the Things and Husband Jared showered me with.  Some of the most memorable though are my playlist that Husband created, the card that Thing 4 picked out all by himself and the words of encouragement that Thing 3 wrote just for me.  Or the day she made breakfast for me before I had a chance to step foot in the kitchen.  That's a rare occurrence in this house, I am usually the first one awake.  Cup of coffee at the ready.  Here's a list, partly so I don't ever forget of all they did for me:

play list

coffee bean grinder

chocolate, loads of chocolate

birthday stickers

stationery 

day trip to Bratislava

coffee mug x2

unique plate

lottery ticket

Austrian coin purse

Seattle and CA trip

flowers

ice skating outing

coffee treats

movie outing
gifts of words from each Thing, ten things each of them love about me (4x10=40!)

On my actual birthday, a day I shared with the Friends and Family event at the new Apple store in Vienna, I spent the day ice skating with Things 3 and 4, stopping for coffee in Starbucks and being gifted a free coffee by the exceptionally kind barista and then having dinner out with my Things at a burger restaurant.  Once at home the Things surprised me with a slide show of my actual present: a trip to Venice, Italy.  A road trip no less.  Whoa.  Thing 3 made a delectable chocolate almond cake courtesy of Julia Childs' recipe and we indulged and celebrated.

Teaching sister how to skate backwards.

Happy faces, it was snowing and it was magical skating in front of the Rathaus.


Performance time!

Here's the bittersweet part.  And I almost feel guilty for writing these words.  But I was sad.  Transition and change had it's way with me.  Grief was heavy after my grandmother's death.  Two of our four were not here to celebrate.  Physically not present.  It was hard.  We were in a foreign country.  On our own.  Husband Jared was noticeably distracted and consumed with the business, as he should have been and as was expected.  I knew this was coming.  But when he couldn't make birthday dinner I was sad.  I shouldn't have counted on him being there but I silently hoped.  There was an unrealistic expectation some might say.  I recognize that.  I've dealt and moved on.  Just writing here to share.  In my vulnerable space.  The Things were gems.  Truly.  They celebrated me and took care of me and laughed with me all day and night.  They sang loudly and they wrote a song and prepared a dance to accompany their lyrics.  Quite the performance.  I was celebrated.  I felt loved.  And yet I still felt disconnected from Husband Jared.  So the next night I announced I was taking myself out to dinner.  For me.  Because dammit, I am 40 and I can go to dinner alone if I want.  Except my people know me and they know that I like to be surrounded by them, with them, laughing with them and eating with them.  So Husband Jared surprised me and picked me up in the bar at the restaurant, while I was waiting on my table.  Think Meg Ryan and Andy Garcia style.  It sounded like a good idea.  Nevertheless we sat for almost three hours in that restaurant, at a teeny, tiny table in the middle of the dining room.  We even kissed in public.  And then we ate and talked and maybe even drank some wine. It was a good, good night.  The kind with conversation that reconnects people.  That delves deep. Honest and raw.  Sharing hurts and remembering who we are.  Then we walked home holding hands and it was better.  I was better.  My birthday felt complete.  Not to mention there was still Italy to look forward to.