Today last year, I blew my birthday candles wishing for a baby. I didn’t think I’d be so lucky or so lucky so soon. But within weeks of my wish, I learned I was expecting Allie. Needless to say, thirty-six was a very special year. Allie not only gave me the gift of motherhood but she helped me feel joy again - pure and unadulterated joy that I had lost after my Dad’s passing.

I lost my Dad six days after my 35th birthday last year.  I lost him three month and fourteen days after my wedding day.   I lost him unexpectedly, abruptly, and without a proper goodbye.  I lost him in a manner that till this day still feels unjustified.  Needless to say, thirty-five was not the glorious year I had imagined.  Rather, it was a year I wish I could erase.   Thirty-five was a year I buried myself in such sadness that only the love and kindness of my husband, my family and my friends freed me.  It was a year that forced me to be vulnerable, to let down my shield and let others in. It was a year I stood still and know that it’s okay, that stillness is not surrendering.    It was a year that I, too, died. But the part of me that lives knows now to live more vicariously and to love boundlessly.  

To thirty-six, to a new day, to a new year. Please be gentle to me.

What an incredible year thirty-four was.  Unbeknownst to me, it would be the year I'd get engaged, married, and leave the burb to be a city girl.  It's a little daunting to realize that I'm officially in my mid thirties.  Truth be told, I've always been an old soul so it's somewhat welcoming that my age is finally catching up to me.   Thirty-five brings wisdom, experience, and fearlessness.  I can't wait for the adventure that awaits!

"No matter what happens, the sun will rise in the morning."  

I looked out the window and took comfort in this.  

Thirty-four is going to be a luminous year!