Kassie's Column: What Year 40 Taught Me
{Contributed photo/Jess D. Photography}
Last year, I approached the twelfth day in the month of May with great expectation. I’d been talking about this day for a while and was eager to see it arrive. The previous month I began a countdown on April 2 that would culminate with a big ole’ social media celebration on what is known as #KDay aka the National Holiday You All Know and Love – My Birfday. Yes, with an f not a th.
We were still entrenched in the pandemic so my plans of traveling to ‘The Motherland’ for my 40th birfday never materialized. So, I adjusted. A domestic celebration was fine with me. And as many people know, I go all out every year so wherever I was going to be, it was going to be a celebration.
Closing in on 40 felt different though. When I was a teen, 40 felt so far away. And dare I say, it seemed old. I remember when my mama turned 40 and it was like whoa nelly! Now, here I was approaching that same milestone that was considered “Over the Hill” back in the day. But I was excited. Extremely excited.
See, in the Bible, the number 40 was representative of what I call “something anew.” The Google definition of the word is “in a new of different and typically more positive way.” In the Good Book, Jesus fasted for 40 days and nights. When he needed to do a hard reset on the world cause folks was trippin’, it rained for 40 days and nights. And the Israelites finally entered in The Promised Land after 40 years of wandering. ‘
Often, I’ve felt like an Israelite – wandering around wondering when the things I’ve been praying and hoping for will manifest themselves in my life. I’ve received blessings on top of blessings and miracles on top of miracles, yet they’re still some prayers that haven’t been answered. When May 12 rolled around, I was expecting a year full of more blessings, miracles and some of those answers I’d been seeking. Guess what? I received those things and much more. But it’s the much more I want to focus on.
I’d be telling a whole fib (my grandma Margie passed away 19 years ago and it’s still sometimes hard for me to say the “L” word when I know the elders are around – in this case reading what I wrote) if I told you that this past year has been awesome, amazing, refreshing, fun, inspiring and peaceful. Truth is, it’s been all those things but it’s also been exhausting, draining, tiring, weighted, unkind and sad.
Multiple family members have passed. My close friend passed. One of my cats passed. Another cat disappeared. My mama had two major health issues with one resulting in hospitalization, physical therapy and an ongoing recovery process that’s entered its fifth month. I had a health scare that sent me to the ER. The foundation of some of my firmly rooted relationships was challenged. I’ve encountered a few situations that required my advocacy. Oh yeah, I was still working, trying to get my exercise on and caring for myself when all of this was happening. I could go on and on. And on.
The past year has been tough. It has caused me to dig deep to stay planted in what I know to be true – for with God nothing shall be impossible. It’s taken me 550 words to get to this point but I want to tell you the most important lesson I learned during #40K – that joy can exist amongst grief/sorrow/pain/whatever you want to call it.
This lesson really shined brightly on the evening of November 14. Four days prior, my great uncle passed. Three days prior, my cousin and my close friend passed. Normally, after folks I love transition, I’m in help mode trying to figure out how I can assist. Typically, I spend a lot of time with my family and friends as we start working through our feelings. During this time, I’m often focused on sitting with those feelings as opposed to anything else.
Well, on this day, I decided to follow through with some plans. Honestly, I think this had more to do with the fact that I hadn’t been able to participate in this favorite pastime of mine in two years because of COVID. I went to see my beloved North Carolina State University play football. I now know it was a divine appointment. I yelled, screamed, laughed, danced, cheered and booed. I high fived those around me. Ate me some good snacks. Stood up on the bleachers singing our fight song loudly. And I got to do all this with one of my favorite humans, my brosin (he’s my cousin whose more like a brother), Lock.
When I returned home that evening, I had a smile plastered on my face. Yes, I was still in disbelief at the events of the past few days. However, I was also reveling in the fun I’d had that evening. That’s when it hit me. Just because life has dealt me a blow doesn’t mean it has to consume my life. I can acknowledge it while also leaning into the scenarios that produce delight. I don’t have to have one or the other. I can have both!
Missing my family members, friend and cats doesn’t mean I can’t get together with my girls for a night of eating, singing and playing games. Figuring out how to navigate caregiving doesn’t mean I can’t treat myself to a spa day. Being frustrated with certain situations doesn’t mean I can’t get in my car and get my karaoke on.
To lean only into the hurt means we rob ourselves of the potential balance we need to keep moving forward. Yes, I know in certain situations the heaviness is overwhelming. I experienced that this year. The best thing I did when it happened was to own it. Recognizing its there, not trying to suppress it and giving yourself grace during it allows you to be able to embrace the periods of bliss, pleasure and elation without guilt.
While none of the situations were any I would’ve put on my list to deal with this year, I’m grateful for what I’ve learned because of them. As I enter my 41st year of life, I know I’m walking into it with more freedom, authenticity and a clearer vision of how to proceed. I pray that will be the same for you when your next birfday rolls around.
Cheers!
