Happy birthday, baby
Miguel’s first gift to me on this birthday was writing this week’s blog. Thanks, babe. I love you.
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Today is Kelly's birthday. She is 40ish years old. On the outside I still see the twenty something that I met in 2006 under questionable circumstances. Maybe I had a girlfriend at the time. It was so long ago it's hard to remember.
But I also see something else. I see, behind shining blue eyes, a powerful force. We all have it, I suppose. It is readily available when we need it, and every one of us will tap into this reserve at some point. To overcome some unbelievable pain. Some tragic loss. Something that, at that moment, seems to be so overwhelming that placing one foot in front of the other is an accomplishment.
For her, well, how much reserve can there be?
On this day, I sit with my wife at an appointment to discuss options for treatment for our latest adventure. The big C, as they say. I stand off to the side as the discussion unfolds that will shape the rest of her/our lives. I see it there.
I watch her scroll past news articles about a certain Hollywood figure that was very recently charged, after in-court testimony from some 40 women about some pretty serious sexual offenses. You can read about that HERE if you want some details. And yeah, she was one of those 40. There it is again.
I watched her recently put the final touches on a project that has been in the works for the better part of a year. A project full of love and pain and everything in between. Countless hours spent locked in her office with her head buried in her computer till all hours of the morning. And I am here to tell you. It is very good. Yup, there too.
I listen from the next room as she makes arguments to the board of directors of not one, but TWO organizations that are reeling from the most recent budget decisions by the government. I can hear it in her voice.
And all the while we carry with us the memory of baby Elvis and our ladybug, who sings to us from outside every time the wind blows.
This power is not a force field. Cause the shit gets in and the tears and pain are real and plentiful. But strength is not about whether it hurts or not. I think it is about how you come through it, or the fact that a person comes through it at all. That someone can sit and stare in the face of hardship and see through the blurry vision and say, ok. Let's go. Life is not fair. If anyone says "you only get as much as you can take" can suck it. I also know that in our world there are folks who have had to endure unbelievable pain and loss. No one wins that contest.
BUT.
In my eyes, she is the strongest person I know. I don't say it enough. How much does one person have to go through??? Watching her come out of each of these with more resolve has been no less than amazing.
For my part, I plan to be by her side as the next wave comes. I suppose there is always another wave. (Can we keep it to low tide wave please?) I will be the support when the reserve gets low. And I will continue to marvel at the superpower that seems to be never ending.
I will also continue to look for every opportunity I can to get lucky. I mean, can you blame me?
Happy Birthday, baby
ID: Kelly is sitting at a restaurant tables and smiling over a scoop of chocolate ice cream with a lit candle in it. She is wearing a purple, pink, and orange floral sweater.
