I turned twenty-eight today. I was born on a Monday at 4:15 pm, at Hospital Tehuantepec in Mexico City, with my eyes wide open. I was delivered by Doctor Vargas, a colleague and friend of my grandmother's - a kind and trusted man who delivered many of the children in our family.
When I was born, my father and grandmother were in the hospital cafeteria; Doctor Vargas had told them that it would be a while yet before I arrived, and so they had decided to take a short break for lunch. So, it was just my twenty-one year old mother and me - her skinny, blue-eyed, long-fingered baby daughter, her firstborn child - on that December 6 afternoon, twenty-eight years ago.
My first nickname was E.T. - my mother’s uncle, tio Miguel, began calling me that because of my saucer-like eyes and skinny limbs. The skinniness did not take long to wear off.
There is a picture of me somewhere, at around age five, wearing a too-small t-shirt with a drawing on the front, of a spotted dinosaur with a wristwatch in his mouth, with the words "Running out of time!" jauntily scrawled across the bottom of the shirt, just above my little protruding belly. The thought of that shirt - of its too-smallness, and its totally un-ironic morbidity - never fails to make me laugh.
Every year, right around my birthday, I get a bit reflective and sometimes a little down; I wonder where the year has gone (it does seem to go by faster each year), and if I have “done enough” - if I have enough to show for another year of life lived. I doubt whether I have improved myself enough, whether I have grown enough, and I wonder how I stack up among all the other people my age. Does everyone do this, to some extent?
Last night I made a quick list of twenty-eight things from the last year, in order to see what came to mind first when I thought about the past year of my life, and to gain a more balanced appreciation for 365 days not lived perfectly, but lived nonetheless.
And here is the list:
1. I worked at the Minnesota State Senate. I spent a night at the Capitol, on the floor of suite 328, waiting for the governor to reconvene the session.
2. I celebrated one year of being a co-homeowner.
3. I celebrated four years of marriage, and seven years with Kevin overall.
4. I went to California twice. On one of those trips I spent an entire day in SF with my sister Gigie. On the other trip, I made a soul-refreshing solo drive from Ojai to Lompoc to Folsom to Martinez, and spent time with family and friends at every stop.
5. I went to Paris! I took pictures from the tops of the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe. I saw the Mona Lisa. I ate French food IN FRANCE. There was also the Spanish food in Spain (maybe a little bit too much ham on that leg of the trip, but still very good). Magic.
6. I got pregnant in the fall. We told our families, and some close friends. I bought some baby clothes, and we talked about names.
7. I had a miscarriage at seven weeks. I ached deeply, and was carried through it by the love and support of some seriously wonderful people.
8. I wrote a lot of personal literary nonfiction. I've received a lot of good and constructive feedback. I am working on cutting my sentences in half.
9. I took an editing class.
10. I finally – finally! – read Wuthering Heights. I hate Heathcliff. I love Hareton Earnshaw!
11. I revamped my blog.
12. I changed my major from Political Science to English. It only took ten years.
13. I drove from Texas to Minnesota with my mom. We got a flat somewhere near the Oklahoma/Missouri border, Officer McCutie Pants came to our rescue, and we laughed all the way through it. My mother told me she feels like she can really be herself around me - I hope I can always make her feel that way.
14. I gardened. A lot. I planted hydrangeas (my favorites). I dug up an old fountain and put in a flagstone patio, nearly by myself.
15. I went to Florida to celebrate a best friend’s wedding, and spent some much-needed time with two women I love a lot. It was hard to say goodbye. I went to Disney World – it was strange, but fun.
16. I drank my first vodka tonic. Not to sound too boozy, but where was this drink my whole life?
17. I quit dyeing my hair, and fell in love with my natural color (which I hadn’t seen for years). I feel liberated, and it's cheaper.
18. I sewed half of a skirt. I made stuffed fabric elephants, and flower pins out of brightly colored felt. I crocheted garland for our Christmas tree. I painted vintage furniture.
19. I celebrate one year of being a dog parent to my lovely and spirited sweet girl.
20. I played softball on a co-ed team. I sprained my wrist with an overzealous barehanded catch at second base. There was the second annual summertime trip to the emergency room. (Let’s hope there’s no third annual trip.)
21. I apologized for things that mattered, and stopped apologizing for things I should not be sorry about.
22. I bought a vintage dress and went to a hangar dance. I curled my hair, wore seam-in-the-back stockings and a garter belt, and "smoked" candy cigarettes. Very authentic.
23. I got bangs. It’s going much better than the last time I had bangs (it was 1995, I tried to speed up the process of growing out my bangs by cutting them off as close to my scalp as possible – disaster).
24. I went to summer school, and finally read Beowulf.
25. I read Neruda and decided that if I ever have a daughter, I would very much like to name her Matilde.
26. I had a birthday brunch with the ladies. I always wanted to have a birthday brunch. There was quiche - with a flaky homemade crust – made by my mother, French toast casserole made by Kevin, wedding china finally used, tea in delicate cups, and lemon birthday cake. I blew out my candles and wished for health and happiness for the people I love, a child, peace, self-acceptance, time with family, and another year (and many more) with my husband.
27. I tried more honesty. It’s been working out well.
28. I decided it’s time to start making peace with myself. I am a work in progress. I am a work in progress, and I am just fine.
There were also winter walks with husband and dog, visits from friends, dinners, cooking, sledding, trivia, libraries, parties, yoga, summertime bike rides, outdoor baseball games, storms, canoeing, tears, movies, laughter, fights, make-ups, restaurants, bills to pay, cleaning, weeding, organizing…
This morning I woke up, and I was twenty-eight. Outside it was snowy and clear and cold, and I was under thick quilts, warm and safe beside a man I love and respect. There was a sleeping black dog on a chair, and my mother in the guest room downstairs. There was a Christmas tree in the living room, and the anticipation of my entire family coming to spend time together in just two short weeks. The house was clean, and the dryer was broken, and soon Kevin would have to get up to go to work and I would have go to school. It was the morning of my twenty-eighth birthday, and things were not perfect, but they were very good because I felt good about them.
Today, I went to class, and Kevin brought me a chai latte (a birthday tradition) at lunch, and my mom and I went shopping (lovely boots!), and then we all went out for Afghani food at a favorite restaurant. I came home to thoughtful birthday greetings from friends from all over, and then I sat down to write. It’s been a quiet and simple birthday, a very good birthday.
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| Homemade quiche and French toast casserole. |
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| Lola is either about to help me blow out the candles, or she is about to lunge into my delicious lemon cake. Most likely the cake. |
* I just looked at the clock. It's not my birthday anymore, and I am up much too late.
