not my 50th

When you understand why something really hurts, Faustina, it stops hurting.

When you understand you have options, you take action.

And when you get that no one can ever stop you from loving more, you feel the love you had earlier denied.

It’s time to get it on,
The Universe

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Sometimes it takes a brilliant ray of light for me to see the invisible tree.
This time around, it was a phone call.
I went from 'life is hard' to life is wonderful' within an hour.
I thought the change might have been because Tony had been transferred.
While that was a contributing factor, it wasn't the primary one.
Sure, I had been very concerned about his transfer to another prison, lower security though it was. I knew he was bitterly disappointed that he had not yet been transferred to a transitional center, that he was still in the prison system. I had seen the photo taken of him upon arrival to Autry and I could see the hurt and the anger in his face.
I was so very concerned that he might snap and jeopardize his chance of going to a transitional center, that he might have to spend the rest of his sentence there in Pelham... or back at Hays.
(shudder)
That was my impetus for the birthday card campaign. I wanted him to have proof in his hands that he was loved as he turned fifty. I wanted those cards to serve as a wave of love, ferrying him to an island of calm.
I realized this morning, with today's message from the Universe, that some deeper concern was behind that act of sisterly concern.
I had not wanted his 50th birthday to be as heartbreaking as mine had been.
I had long looked forward to attaining my half-century mark.
I envisaged a three-day celebration, much like for my 40th birthday. For that one, I'd had the private day of celebration with my husband on the Friday - very nice! Saturday saw a big evening party at our house, filled with friends from my past, his past, and our past - hooray! On the third day, we hosted an afternoon cookout for all of the family - what joy to have so many nieces and nephews there, too!
Then he and I had divorced... and I was 49.
As my birthday neared in 2008, that first year after the loss of my marriage, I became increasingly anxious. What to do to celebrate? Where to go? Who to accompany me?
My body decided to rebel from the stress. By the time of my birthday in May, I found myself increasingly in abdominal distress, with much cramping and diarrhea. Then I noticed that I had a disturbing bulge all around my waist, a painful and puffy swelling.
I freaked out.
My grandpa had died of pancreatic cancer and I was scared the same fate awaited me.
Fortunately, the timing was in my favor. My annual visit to Dr. Peggy Byck allowed for me to discuss the matter with her without need for a separate appointment. She referred me to a gastroenterologist, Dr. Edward Rydzak, the same one who'd cared for Mama in her final months, granting us an honest talk about her impending death.
I knew he was a caring doctor and felt secure that he would find the problem.
It took all summer. First, I had to wait for an appointment with him. Then came the appointment for an MRI. Then another visit with him to discuss the results. Next was an upper endoscopy, followed by a colonoscopy, each with visits back to the specialist. On the last of these, near the end of my summer, he called me in for a discussion of test results.
He had found a small polyp in my colon and removed it, but it had been benign, so no cause for distress and certainly not the cause of my malady. In fact, none of the tests had shed light on the source of the puffiness and abdominal pain.
He suggested that the next course of action was to investigate food sources which were causing the bloating and diarrhea. He said I should avoid dairy products for the next two weeks and monitor any changes in my bowel habits.
Avoid dairy?!
I drank milk daily, had yogurt daily, had cheese daily. As it was summer, I also had ice cream fairly often. Sour cream was enjoyed with tacos and burritos.
Avoid dairy?!
But I did as he asked.
Within a week, I knew he was correct.
For my fiftieth birthday, my body had given me a gift for forever: lactose intolerance.
Oh, joy.
My summer of birthday had been spent at home, afraid to go on vacation, afraid of the future.
Well, hell.
At least it was better than what my body gave me for my 49th birthday.

By the end of 2008, I had taken a cue from Superman Sam and joined the League of Savannah Bloggers, creating my own personal beach in a sea of ether waves.
This place has been a refuge as well as a place of contemplation, just as the real sea shores are for me.
I am grateful to have a place to sort my thoughts...
to make sense of my actions...
to realize that my disappointment with a birthday was still a sore spot in my psyche...
but no longer.
The waves have cast the emotional remnants far out to sea, dispersing the pain and disappointment into minute specks to drown in its depths.
i thank You, God.