life is like the surf, so give yourself away like the sea.

my friend's father passed away the other day. and all i could do was bake her a chicken and hug her and walk the valley floor. and curl up in the living room with blankets and a movie. and take her to buy jerky on the way to the airport. and wonder if i have any idea what she is going through. it breaks my heart. and i sit here in her room. so empty without her warm presence. and i admire her bravery. and pray for her heart. and hope that she can find peace in the knowledge that she put her heart out there and it was received. she said her peace and her father passed, perhaps without the knowledge of the intimate details of her life, but with a much better understanding of her character. knowing that she is loving and open and amazing. and with a genuine desire to reconcile the space between. that counts for something. that really matters.

and in the crooks of her story i can see the broken pieces of my failed relationship as a daughter. what would i feel if that phone call was mine to receive. if my sister's voice wailed on the other end of the line. dad is dead. would my heart wrench? would i be numb and guarded? would life continue on unaffected by the loss of this already absent figure? only present in name and concept as a means to my existence. half of me. the half that could care less about the person i have become.

the birthday song poured out onto my voicemail. i love you audie. my throat tightened. i straighted my posture. adjusting my weight to both feet. i am angry and annoyed. and i feel selfish for vowing not to call him back. i can't put myself out there again. so many years of disappointment. failed promises and broken truths. i'm too weak. i'm too tired. but i pray that my friend can understand why i must choose to keep this distance between my own father. i pray that i can understand and accept the reality of the situation. i don't think i can handle another rejection. it seems necessary to walk away. save my heart for something better. for someone who will actually care for it and appreciate its delicate fullness.

----------------------------------------------------------------

monday evening. the sun set in brilliant red and orange and pink. fading to a deep purple above the mountain ridge. the wildfire haze hanging in the air, increasing the intensity of the final rays. the day's finale. a glorious show. standing at 10,000 feet, i crouched to the ground, high heels digging in the dusty, gravel road. my dress gently brushing across the path. hugging my knees tightly to my chest. the tears welled in my eyes. trying to hold them back. to somehow absorb them back into my body. they plump and roll down my cheeks, leaving wet tracks that chill in the evening breeze.

overwhelmed. it's too much. my little sister called me from the hospital. my father sang to my voicemail as if months of emptiness and distance have not passed. my amazing friend stands crouched behind me, holding me and stroking my hair, pretending for a moment that there will be more nights like this. that he isn't leaving on sunday. that we have more time.

no girl wants to spend her thirtieth birthday feeling fat and bloated. physically and emotionally exhausted. strung out on her period and on the far end of the family drama. close enough to be in the know, but unable to solve any of the problems. angry and upset. completely overwhelmed. so i stand and turn towards those strong arms that pull me close. and hold me tight. and he dries my tears and kisses me gently. it seems like such a strange time to celebrate. recent events weighing on my mind. burdening my heart. but he manages to make me laugh and he takes me to dinner. and somewhere between the sake and the curry i relax into the evening. it is what it is. be here now. this time is a gift. happy birthday to me.

----------------------------------------------------------------

everyone says thirty is just the beginning. the start of a new decade. a new phase. a new season. and i embrace this opportunity for change. for growth. for understanding. for love. there is distance from the insecure little girl in me. the years have given me that distance. and a new perspective. learning to get out of my own way. that i am the dictator of my own limits and boundaries. placing restrictions on my life out of fear. and i choose to end this way of living. embrace what the day has in store. live in the moment. live boldly. love wildly. this is just the beginning.