One year ago, I thought it was the end. It may sound dramatic, but that’s exactly how I felt. You know that thing people say, that we are just like our parents? That’s exactly what started the downward spiral. The long-life comment from my mother, which she used to shame me for years, kicked my butt the moment I blew out my 47th birthday cake candles: “You’re just like your father.”
Any kid with divorced parents knows this phrase, and it would be something easy to pass if it wasn’t because my father never reached his fifties. I was twenty-three the day I saw him last, and it took many years to realize what happened that day: a subconscious countdown had started.
Three years ago, when I was working on my first novel, I thought about it for the first time: what would happen if indeed I was like him, if my days were numbered and I’d lose the opportunity to grow old and see my kids grow up and become messy humans (as we all deserve to be, because perfect is boring and very difficult—if not impossible—to reach). Maybe that was one of the factors I considered when I decided to change careers, do something different, think a little more about myself… yes, like him.
I’ve celebrated many things this last year, and I’ve worked for all that success, regardless of how big the accomplishment. I’ve gathered the cork from every cava and champagne bottle to remind me that good things have happened and that many more will come as long as I’m here. In the last year, I got married, signed my second publishing contract, published my debut novel in two languages, finished my third manuscript, promised myself to invest more in the things that really matter, and took care of things that have bothered me too long. So, what else can I ask?
The answer is easy: everything. I want it all while I’m here: the laughs, the tears, the will to continue, the love of my favorite people in the whole universe. All of it, until the nothing arrives, which I hope is many, many years ahead. I have plans and a serious intention to live them.
Happy birthday to me. 48 is going to be awesome (and if it isn’t, at least I’ll have more material to write about… Positive thinking, people, positive thinking.)
