For our 40th birthday, Aaron and I spent it together in San Diego. As always (just like the tradition of watching Big Brother together), we find a way to be together for our birthday. So I drove down to his house, and we rang it in together. The day included a lot of work (typical…the day I want the load to be light, it’s all funky), Aaron painting me a picture, eating Mediterranean food and ending the night at our favorite pizza joint, Paesano. A random hodgepodge of activities, but so quintessential Farmer Twins.
Up until that day, I never had any issues with turning 40. In fact, I still don’t feel 40. I feel 32. Which also makes my comprehension of Aaron’s death so hard: we just turned 40. I mean, that’s not old. And we even rang it in celebrating at a pizza parlor.
I have said from the moment that Aaron passed away that August 10, our birthday, is going to the hardest day of all of this. It’ll be hard for mom, dad and Bob, too, but for me, it’s going to be a very surreal day. My birthday without Aaron? Just typing that word is very, very, very strange.
So I told myself that on August 10, I wouldn’t be anywhere familiar. Not in Long Beach, nor San Diego. Not in San Francisco or even California. My gut tells me to be somewhere where there are no ties to Aaron, so I can get through the day. I will honor Aaron in my heart and mind, but being somewhere so different will help me begin to find a new normal. After all, our birthday is the last of the “firsts” I have to go through.