Twenty Six

On the eve of my 26th birthday I can’t help but feel like this is the set up for my worst birthday to date.

I’m fucking up at work, and am given 30 days to get my shit together. My ex is taking me to court for mediation over money I owed her. I fucked up my sobriety last week and had a glass of wine at an HR event. I just feel like not much is going right for me now. And I have to shoulder all these burdens tomorrow, on a day I’m supposed to celebrate myself. I just feel so lonely sometimes. Triggered by my baggage.

Where are you? I need your support. I don’t feel it this week, and I’m really struggling

“There comes a day when you look at the person you kept forgiving with pure disgust”

Sometimes you let me down.

Happy 63rd birthday, pops

On this day, I can’t help but think and reflect on my dad. I know that his birthday is tomorrow, but I decided to take the day off of work in an effort to be more mindful and celebrate his life more. I feel like in years past, I was always sad about his birthday, but this year I’m trying to celebrate his life and legacy. 

One of four children to a podiatrist and a teacher, my dad was born on April 13th, 1956. He grew up in West Hartford and loved it so much, he never left. He tried going to Tulane law school in New Orleans, but left after his first semester because he was so homesick. He married my mom in 1982, after only being engaged for 3 months. He proposed at a Whalers game. My mom still has the engagement ring, and that will be mine when the time is right. 

He married my mom and they had my sister in 1983, because my dad’s mom had cancer and he wanted her to see him get married. He was always a family man. Always true to his word and never unsteady. After my sister was born, he put himself through law school and later owned his own law practice, where my mom worked as his paralegal. He was a self-made man. And while he would stress about money, I always felt a sense of stability growing up. I worked in his law office doing admin things as a kid. 

I remember he would always come home late and fall asleep on the couch after dinner, with his hand tucked into his dress shirt. He pushed me to succeed academically and to participate in extra-curriculars. I think he pushed me a little too hard, but I know that he meant well, in retrospect. He was active in our town’s political scene and was always so friendly and talkative with strangers. While that irked me as a kid, I admire that he was so confident and willing to hear other people’s stories. And everyone he talked to was always willing to have a conversation with him. He was charming and witty, gentle and honest. If one word can sum up Howard Haims, it would be honest. He had a strong sense of integrity and morality. He taught me to respect women and led by example, by being a great role model. While I know others’ narratives about their fathers can be complicated, I can genuinely say my dad was great. 

He had a passion for sports and traveling. He enjoyed experiences and we went in many vacations in my youth. He and I always went to UConn games, even if I wasn’t always intrigued in basketball as a kid. He was uptight and methodical, always getting stressed, but he always knew how to plan vacations, and he always knew what to do. 

He was stoic and strong. I think I only saw him cry two times in his life, once at his dad’s funeral and when he was in treatment for his cancer. 

I think the thing that made me sad the most right after he passed was that no one would proofread my essays anymore, like he always did. Or that no one would teach me how to tie a tie (he taught me, but I always forgot). It was the little things about him I missed the most immediately. The little things I always took for granted and only really appreciated after he was gone.

He left an impeccable legacy on anyone and everyone he touched. He was a paragon of strength and honesty, of resilience and morality. He walked the walk while never forgetting his roots. He was humble and caring. 

He left a hole in my heart when he left, but I’m so grateful for the time I had with him. 

The best feeling in the world is waking up next to you. You make me feel safe and secure. You listen, you care. You're special

I'm in love with you, Sarah Nicole Turner

I hope you read this soon. And I know you're not ready to say it, but I am: I'm in love with you

I'm so head over heels for you. Absolutely enamored. But you know that. You see the way I look at you. I feel like you see that spark in my eyes. My heart beating fast, seeing so many possibilities with you. I see a future with you. You feel like home.

I haven't felt so strongly or so deeply about anyone before. I'm in love with you. I just want to shout it from the rooftops, to tell everyone. I'm in love with you.

I want to share my weird traditions with you, to share things that are important with you. To create long-lasting memories. I want you to continue to be a part of my life. I want to do things that are important to you. I see myself with you for awhile.

You feel comfortable. You feel right. You're everything I've been searching for. I met you at a time when I least expected to and I just fell so hard for you right off the bat.

I knew I was in love with you when we went to Shabbat services. I looked over at you and was overcome with a sense of warmth and admiration. The way you tried so hard to sing along to the prayers and were focused and alert. The way you cared to be there for me and try.

When I asked you to be my girlfriend, I just knew.

The other night when we were in my car, driving, and you said to me "if it's important to you, it's important to me" and when I grabbed you and kissed you, passionately, with all of me, I just wanted so badly to tell you then.

I know you're not ready yet and I'm being patient. But I just want you to know: I love you. I'm in love with you.