February 2, 2017 Thursday

Chris had to work. That’s the premise we are always working from and the goal we work towards.

So, on Thursday, a day that Andrew has class, can’t come pick up Chris and drive the truck and trailer, guess who had to? Yup. Lil ole me. On my birthday.

You don’t know me. First of all, my birthday is always MY day. It is MY holiday. I tell anyone who will listen that your birthday is your one personal holiday. You fill that day with all the good things you never do for yourself. You do you.

Secondly, I’m all of 5′ 3″. I have never ever pulled a trailer. When Chris and Andrew told me the night before that I had to do this I rebelled. Ok, I’ll be honest. I freaked the hell out. This was NOT on my agenda for my birthday. I woke up at 4:30am lying in complete panic mode.

A week or so ago I found a stroke group on Facebook that has provided me a source of support and information. I posted in the group that morning.

Whine alert….

Two weeks ago today he had his stroke.

Today I have to drive a truck and trailer for the first time in my life so that he can work. I do not want to do this. I am scared and I just don’t wanna.

Then, its not like I can drop him off and walk home, so I have to stay and will help with demo today. Not what I want to do at all. But it helps him to keep his business going.

Today is also my birthday.

I don’t think he remembers…

After I posted that I gathered my spunk, got in the truck and I pulled that trailer like a super hero! Honestly, it wasn’t all that hard. Not nearly as scary or difficult as I thought. All the horrible things I imagined never materialized…much like life, right? Things happen and we make them worse with our imaginings that never come to pass.

Chris backed the trailer up into the drive and got the team started before he himself began to rip some molding. I wasn’t comfortable with doing that so I set up my laptop on the counter to keep an eye on him.


Somewhere about noon he asked me to begin to gather the old molding so that he could pull the nails from it. As I’m lugging loads back and forth and he’s pulling nails, he casually asks, “When’s your birthday? It should be coming up.” I just looked at him, laughed and replied, “Really? You’re asking me that today?”

I could feel bad for myself and truth is, I was a little bit.

For a long time my birthdays weren’t really about me. However, when I began to honor and cherish myself I started taking my birthday quite seriously. Each year I took my birthday off work and did all the things I love to do but don’t take the time. I reviewed my year and projected goals for my next year.

Since I moved here though, every day is pretty much like those birthdays. Every day I get to write, journal, explore my healing side, take long walks in nature, nap, and talk with people about real topics.

So, I could sit and wallow that I’m sitting in someone else’s home, lugging pulled molding, writing on a borrowed stool and counter, and watching my husband get more tired as each minute passes.

I could also be in mourning for a husband that died from a stroke.

So, instead I am choosing to feel grateful that I had to drive that truck and trailer, because at 52 I did not cave into fear and I drove that truck and trailer like a super hero.

I choose to feel grateful because I am not burying my husband..or worse.

I choose to feel grateful because my birthday is no longer the only day of the year that I get to live out my ‘best day’.

I choose to feel grateful because I still have my beloved.

Happy Birthday to me.




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