Stepping into 40 with a full heart (and a full story)
Today marks 20 years since my mom passed, meaning i’ve now lived longer without my mom than I was blessed to live with her. It’s bringing up some big reflections as I step into my 40th year earth-side tomorrow, and look back at this past year… it was a doozy to say the least (and honestly, I feel like I’ve been saying that every year since at least 2020… I’m pretty over it).
A Year That Asked A Lot:
In January, I was put on stress leave after workplace issues finally caught up with my body and it just said no more, you need to find a better way.
In May, I resigned from my position at the college and stepped boldly into entrepreneurship, something I avoided because one self-employed person in the house was stressful enough.
In July and August, I became a full-time childcare provider while trying to build and launch my business with two kids at home for the first time.
Then, on August 25, our last week of summer holidays, I got the call no blue-collar wife wants. My also self-employed husband was being airlifted to Winnipeg after falling 15 feet and breaking his leg. We are so lucky that’s all it was, but still, everything changed in that instant.
What I thought would be a time getting back to my routine, my daily walks and building momentum for my business became a season of caregiving, adapting, and making sure Ben was comfortable, and healing (thank god i’m self-employed and didn’t have to ask permission for a single thing I had to do over the past 3 months).
Twenty Years Without My Mom:
And now, November 20 marks 20 years since losing my mom to cancer. It was the day before my 20th birthday, which means I’m entering a chapter where I’ll have officially lived longer without my mom than with her. Being a motherless daughter, and now a mother myself, is not for the faint of heart. It brings up so many questions, curiosities and challenges as I navigate supporting a 7 and 4 year old who say they miss Grandma Pat on what feels like a daily basis, while also navigating my own grief and emotions of this loss every day.
At the same time, I’m entering my 40s, and I’m genuinely grateful. I’m going to get some eye rolls here because I say it all the time, but age is of no importance unless you’re a wine or a cheese, right? Still, my mom was 46 when she passed. Forty-six.
As I enter my 40s, the thought consuming my brain is how do I live with a healthy dose of YOLO while not spiralling over every tiny shift in my body, because perimenopause has also entered the chat…
The Unhinged Changes No One Prepares You For:
“My lungs don’t usually feel like this.”
“Is that a new mole?”
“Is that a hemorrhoid or a tumor!!!!”
“I need a derm to check this spot on my face STAT.”
“Was that poop normal?”
*Add to Non-Existant Manual on Adulting:
What I’ve picked up from the nonsense that adulting has thrown at me (other than a firm “fuck this, I did NOT sign up for shit”):
Don’t take a single day for granted.
Take the damn pictures and videos of your loved ones! Record their faces, their voices.
Embrace those laugh lines, they tell stories of joy.
Say NO to things that don’t serve you, and don’t you dare feel bad about it.
Slow down… or else your body, or the universe will force you to (and from experience, they won’t be kind about it!)
So, here’s to 40. To the decade ahead… please be kind to me.
