Birthday post: Two lists

Today is my birthday. For most of my life my birthday, and the birthdays of those I love, have been my favorite holidays. This year it feels, at best, superfluous and confusing. I no longer know why I am here. While Kevin was not my reason for being he helped me find confidence and meaning even in (what I thought were) the most challenging of times. Without him it is very hard to find. I know that feeling will change, that eventually I will have purpose again and reason to celebrate my existence, but for today, it just feels like another piece of cognitive dissonance.

In past years I have posted lists of things I am grateful for, one for each year of my life but, for obvious reasons, this year that would be hard to do. Coming up with 47 things to celebrate would be a reach and one I don't want to undertake. I'm sure some of you are thinking but that's the best time to write out a gratitude list! when you aren't sure what you're grateful for! You may be right, but it's not going to happen. As the song says, it's my birthday and I can cry if I want to.

Nonetheless... In all of the difficulty, trauma and loss of the last year there are some things I'd like to draw attention to. Some thank-yous to be said.

1. I am grateful for my friends and family. Thank you for dancing with me through all of this, being understanding when I've been sharp, giving me space or embracing me as seemed right.
2. I am still grateful for the beauty in this world.
3. I am grateful for social media that allow me to have company at 2am and readers for this blog.
4. I am grateful for tea. 
5. Lastly, and most importantly for me this year, I am grateful for Kevin.
   For his love.
   For the enduring memories of 15 superlative years.
   For his grace in the face of death and utter engagement in his life.
   For his foibles and follies and the rhythm of his heart.
   There is no one on this planet I love more. Even now. Thank you, sweetheart.

In The Hobbit we learn that hobbits give gifts on their own birthdays. I like that, especially at this time in my life when I have far more than I need. So I'd like to offer this to you:

1. May you love and be loved so well you shatter and must rebuild anew when it ends.
2. May your grief be punctuated with moments of grace.
3. May you love again, be it a dog, a friend, the world or a partner.
4. May you remember who you are and rejoice in it.
5. And may you know that your life touches many, that you matter, and, in eventual time, may you be mourned and remembered as well as you mourn and remember.

Love to all.

(c)2014 Laura S. Packer