Today is my 39th birthday. It's been a rather pleasant day so far, kind of. I got a card from a colleague. Another made me some gluten-free chocolate cookies. She can't have wheat, so to be included in our little celebrations she usually gets stuck making something sweet. We all eat it. We are getting used to the differences.
My new, wonderful husband sent me flowers and balloons! What a sweet, compassionate man. The entire weekend is going to be about us. I'm looking forward to it. But there's been something in the back of my mind for months now...
My stepsister died on Memorial Day. She was 39. She suffocated in a bean bag in her daughter's room. It was a result of recently diagnosed sleep apnea and one too many beverages.
The point is...now I'm 39.
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