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It’s 1:38 AM.
It’s officially my birthday.
I’m 48 years old today. And I’m in exile.
I will not see my wife today. I will not see my beautiful children. Even if I had been in the city where they live, they left town for the week.
I haven’t spent a birthday without these people since I was in my 20s.
I don’t care about the birthday per se. I care about the loss. The connection.
I’m not asking for pity.
I’m angry. I’m bitter. I’m hurt. I’m saying it out loud, not because I think it will change anything, but because it’s real.
I don’t like polite lies. Today is going to be hard.
But I’m also resolute.
This will not break me.
This will not define me.
This will not derail me.
On my 49th birthday, I will celebrate all the things I accomplished in spite of this.
Here’s to another year. Here’s to defying the odds.
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Happy Birthday. I just got home from a 15 hour day and I’m eating a can of soup called Campbell’s Pabst Beer Cheddar. It’s….a swing and a miss. I hope you find a good meal today and turn over some new leaves on your continuing journey.