I remember making all sorts of plans for the year I would turn 50.

From booking a marathon for myself in Vegas to trying to publish my second book. All so I could do something BIG the year I turned 50.

It was a milestone birthday.

But quickly became a year I will never ever forget.

50 began on a quiet note.

My best friend of 34 years and I celebrated with a trip to Two Harbors. Her birthday was the day before mine. She always used to say she was born just for me.

It was just us.

We rented a VRBO, hiked, saw the black pebble beach, and enjoyed cocktails at the Tipsy Mosquito.

We knew in our hearts it would be our last birthday together.

You see, she had been diagnosed(I still hate that word) with high grade serous carcinoma; an aggressive form of ovarian cancer, about 1.5 years before.

July was busy but nothing groundbreaking. It always begins with my first born’s birthday which is a high note. Then end of the month became a bit odd. My Mom, at 88, called me and said she was weak and needed help. So she went to the hospital and had a long stay. My best friend had her monthly appointment and learned her latest treatment was not working and she would need to look into another method. And all the while, life continued to progress. I remember being at our cabin for a family reunion….and the rest is a blur.

Shortly after returning from the cabin, my Mom’s doctor called to let me know it was time for hospice care. And my best friend called to let me know she had been admitted to the hospital once again.

Now, due to real life time and my fingers getting tired of typing all of this, I’m condensing some of the madness. And let me tell you, there was a lot! We never truly realize how BIG things are until we have the opportunity to look in the rear view mirror and wonder how we survived it all.

I ended up taking an unexpected trip to Fargo as my Mom was transferred to her last home. I felt I needed to be with her as she moved on to the next place.

My Mom and I had taken some time apart in life but I would not allow her to pass over alone.

So I sat with her. I fed her ice cream. I sang to her. We reminisced and I gave her permission to go.

One morning, as we sat in the garden, she told me that she felt she had done everything she came to do here. I told her she was correct. Then, she had this smile on her face that I had never seen before. It was this closed mouth grin that never left.

Peace.

Pure peace and acceptance.

Loving my Mom as she left here was the most difficult, most precious moment of my 50th year.

Once I returned, I tried to put my life back together. I threw myself into my work and my adult children. It worked for awhile until Joan(my best friend) took a turn.

She was admitted to Rochester in early November and never really came home…. She did, but it was only to prepare for the journey. I still have a hard time processing her passing. She, too, was only 50.

I saw so much of myself and her pain in the mirror. I walked beside her as she walked through my worst nightmare.

I could talk about my girl forever. My Joan.

Her boisterous laugh, her smile. Her genuine compassion for all. Her smartass personality that caught you off guard. She was my sister in this life. And just the best.

I struggle with why.

And often scream out.

We had plans.

Definitive ones.

We were going to move to Florida when in our 80s and live on the beach. We’d have coffee every morning and adventure every day.

We promised to take care of one another as we aged.

Joanie and I had a special bond we shared. No one will ever compare. And often times, that is what hurts the most.

On one of her last days, as I held her hand, I told her” Do you realize you are the only human in this world who has never hurt me?” Not once. Not a harsh word. Not one broken promise. Not one single time.

I will miss her every day for the rest of my life.

The same day my best friend passed, my first grandbaby came into this world.

What an incredible gift from God!

She has healed my heart and strengthened me in the most mysterious ways.

However, my 50th winter was off the charts.

I believe it to be the longest and darkest of all my days.

Here’s where I share the real and raw of life.

The SHIT no one talks about because society expects us to show up and put on a happy face.

But, some days, I just couldn’t.

January was ALOT. Most mornings began having coffee with my husband and ended with me sobbing in pain. Utter physical and emotional pain. Like someone was cutting my heart out of my chest.

The loss of my Mom was so new.

The loss of Joan; unbearable.

One evening, when still earth-side, Joan and I texted and tried to wrap our heads around her passing; I asked how I would find her when she left here.

She quickly texted me this…

“I think a sunrise…..The sun comes up every day and it’s a chance to make each day wonderful “.

Some days this past winter, I couldn’t bear to see the sunrise so I would close the blinds.

Grief is a journey. And a powerful one at that.

I wish I would have taken surfing lessons at 49 so I was somewhat prepared for 50!

Each day got a little lighter and some days were still heavy and dark.

I had been having some female issues also during the winter. Shuffling them off to the exorbitant amount of stress and sadness I was under. But then I decided to contact my Dr.

I ended up having my very first surgery(a D&C) to remove an endometrial polyp in February. Went well and I survived but man oh man…can I be done being 50?!!!

Then in March, I threw my back out.

To be honest, it was while drinking multiple martinis and dancing it out in my living room. Feeling a moment of weightlessness costed me 2 months of nerve pain.

Still 50? Shit. 💩

Then as I came out of that, our pup of 14 years and 8 months had a stroke one April morning.

It was time to let him go.

We endured and cried and sobbed and I sank again.

The grief 50 threw at me was SO much.

And at times, I didn’t want to see 51.

Pain(in all forms),

Loss(of multiple souls),

Change(in so many ways),

KNOCKED the hell out of me !

And here I sit.

I bounced.

I’m slowly coming back.

I heard myself laugh in a genuine way about a month ago and it caught me off guard. It got me thinking about how far away I have been.

Because of the pain and loss, I left too.

I left behind my daily routines, my friends, my relationships, and mostly myself. It was too much some days.

The point of sharing all of this today, is that I am still sitting here. I am alive. I am moving through the storm. I am finding joy in the sadness and growth in the madness.

And that in itself is BIG.

50 was a year of unraveling.

A year that challenged every single thing I knew and believed; other than my FAITH.

I couldn’t understand why God would take so much from me. And then one day, I actually said that phrase out loud to my husband.

Why would God take so much from me?

And that is our tiny human mind computing.

He didn’t “take” anything from me.

He gave me 88 years with my Mom. And even after our 10 year distance from one another; we found each other again. I had prayed for just one more memory with her. And he gave us multiple slumber parties, so much love and laughter and another 8 years!

He didn’t take Joan away from me. He gave me 34 years of sisterhood. Laughter, pain, moments, and time. He allowed me to have some of the greatest conversations of my lifetime the last week of hers.

Where is Heaven? What will it be like?

And He didn’t take Bolo away. He gave us 14 years and 8 months of pure joy and love that only a dog can share. Bolo taught me so much, was the best therapist, bestie and strength of my life.

It’s all perspective.

50 was BIG.

I was foolish to think I needed to make BIG plans. Plans that would force growth and awaken me in ways I have never been.

I wasted so much time planning and prepping for my BIRTH into year 50.

God knew the way and once again, HIS plans were not what I had imagined or hoped for. However, they far outweighed anything I could have asked for.

This past season, I did run a “marathon”.

One far more rewarding than any trail. I ran towards life. I ran into the pain and darkness that has only helped me find more light.

And I did “publish” a new book.

One within my soul. One with chapters so intense and terrifying.

Chapter with uncharted territory, and pages filled with lessons.

So, in closing, I’d say 50 was pretty BIG after all.

A BIG fucking mess filled with every emotion. Full of gratitude for the army He has surrounding me. Full of GLORY to my GOD🩷.

In less than a week, I welcome 51.

I am ready and more prepared for the waves of LIFE than I have ever been.

Thank you, Lord, for this incredible grace.

And for those experiencing a season of grief , I see you and my heart is with you.

We never truly move on from Grief.

We just learn to move WITH it.

Love you forever, Mom, Joan and my Bolo.

Thank you for letting me into your story and for all of the love you left within me.

I will spread it far and wide for the rest of my days.

And, I know…..You will all be waiting 🩵

Sidenote; I heal through music.

Listen to the song I shared a photo of.

It is profoundly accurate.

I was “sitting in this house for days, in here, waiting on the flood”

“Keep looking up not looking down, you can’t find the answers in the ground. Where will we be 12 months from now?“

Peace to all,

Linda 🩷