38: A Year of Finding

Today, I’m 38.Thirty-seven was a year that was. It was a year of loss. I found out I was being laid off the day after my birthday. Nearly a year later, I lost my soul dog. Between those two losses (and a million other things), I feel like I lost a part of myself1. I’ve thought a lot about mortality this year. At least more so than I ever have before. The world lost a lot of good souls, too. Some I knew, some I knew from afar, and some I only came to know through the people who loved them. I found myself thinking about how much a life can mean, how love can exist for one soul, and how much is left behind when they’re gone. I think that’s part of what makes turning 38 feel a little different. I’m even more aware of time passing. Of how quickly another year can go by. Of how much can CHANGE in a year, without warning. I am hoping 38 will be the year of finding.Finding what exactly, I’m not entirely sure (yet). It feels too cliche to say I hope to find myself. I didn’t actually lose…