Cycles and Fluctuations

Coffee in hand while looking out my kitchen window, I saw the last few leaves from my oak tree land on the tall pile in my front lawn. “Felicidades a mi”, I whispered as I dreaded starting my birthday with an unpleasant chore. I threw on my robe, grabbed the rake and lawn bags and stepped outside. I felt a few water droplets hit my glasses, and quickly walked back into my garage. I cannot recall a birthday with no rain. Given that it is typical weather for mid-November in the Midwest, I always had that simple wish of a cloudless day. It would have been perfect to complete this task. The chilly wind and rain on this autumn day provoked memories to resurface while I settled back to my seat in the kitchen, nursing my coffee once more.

The month of November holds such a strong importance to me not only because it is my birth month, but a number of pivotal events happened during this month:

My first time experiencing the array of yellow, orange, and red leaves that the Midwest autumn gifted us. I was five-years-old at that time, when I moved to the Midwest from Mexico with my parents and brothers.
I embraced my first love during this month, where Thanksgiving was the first holiday we shared. I introduced him to mi familia and vice versa.
Walking into my first class at the college I worked so hard to attend, debt-free due to receiving a full tuition scholarship.
I lost my father to pancreatic cancer during my senior year of college. I lost myself too.
My first time at the emergency department due to an unknown medical anomaly opened my eyes to be more aware of what I consumed and how to move my body to become stronger and healthier.
Closing on my first home in 2019, before the Covid-19 pandemic that shut all other doors.

The many cycles that November holds have imprinted in me. My sense of wonder as a child dancing in the fallen leaves in a new world. The bittersweet memory of my first love’s kiss and a life that did not come to fruition. Attending college and owning my own home were accomplished goals that I set for myself. Even with “the good, the bad, the ugly” of it all, I am forever grateful to have experienced them all.

Ring, ring. I answered my phone. “Feliz cumpleaños, hermosa. Estoy agradecida por otro año contigo en este mundo”. I smiled from ear to ear. “Te amo. Gracias, a’ma”. Suddenly, my wish to have an unrainy birthday didn’t matter anymore.

(This is my first entry for IndieWeb Carnival: Cycles and Fluctuations. Thank you for reading).