Last Day of My 30's

“Such wounds to the heart will probably never heal. But we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever.” - Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

Today is the last day of my thirties, and I woke up at 4 AM, which means I’m probably a little bit better than you. I’m kidding - I’m a morning person, but I try not to be smug about it. Actually, my whiny puppy alarm clock let me know she needed to go outside. Anyway, I took some time to stretch, clean, take a few selfies, and start writing this post.

I wore black to mourn the end of my 30’s. Lol. :)

I’ve been thinking a lot about what to post lately. I’ve had a lot of ideas swimming in my head, but I came across the quotation at the top of this post which is from a book I’ve never read. Now it’s on my endless TBR list. Reading those words stopped me in my tracks, and I’ve thought about them a lot because I realize that I have been sitting and staring at my wounds for a long time.

I’ve been through a lot in a decade - lost a lot, learned a lot, and I have a lot of beautifully happy and sad memories. When I think about my losses, I remember how ordinary the moments before were. The last thing I did before Mike’s heart attack was make lunch. I sent an email before I got the news about my mom's passing. I was having a seafood dinner with my in-laws before I found my dad on the floor after his stroke. I was just living my life, and then in a moment everything changed for me. And ever since, I feel stuck like I’m just staring at these wounds and not sure what to do, but keep moving.

People like to tell me how strong they think I am. You’re such a strong young woman. You know what I never ever wanted to be in my life? Strong. I don’t even work out, but I will start walking again soon for my health’s sake. Strength was the natural consequence of a lot of difficult life experiences - not unique experiences by any means, but still strength was the only option I had.

What I’d rather people see is how soft I still am, how my resolve may be made of stone, but my heart isn't. I just feel tired, but not sleepy, like tired in my soul. I’m tired of living life on hard mode (or expert mode as Cory once called it). So my wish for this year is the same as always - a longing for things no one can give me that I’ll never have again, but also for my life to become like 5% percent easier, to win the lottery, and also to finally stop just staring at my wounds, so they can heal.

Today, I reflect. Tomorrow, I celebrate. Every day, I hope for the best always. Still.

Kimberly