June 8 will be my 33rd birthday. When I turn 33, I will be the same age my mother was when she passed away. My mother, Maria Consuelo, was born in Colombia and moved to the United States at 12. She met my father in Chicago and married him at 27 years old. Soon after getting married, she had me and my sister. By age 33, my mother had accomplished what is traditionally expected of a woman in Colombia: to marry and have children. However, soon after having the “dream life,” she passed away.
In my last post, I described the sadness of being single. I must admit I felt vulnerable and embarrassed after posting it. I had an instant need to explain myself, to say that I am not desperate; I just feel lonely sometimes. I was afraid of what people might think of me, but after some struggle, I decided to leave the post up. I am glad I did because a few hours later, I received encouraging messages and learned of other people’s sadness. I felt connected to my readers, supported, and loved by my friends. I am very lucky to have them.
The message I liked the most was: “Keep being yourself, and your moment will come. Until then, never forget to live.” In moments of sadness, we need friends to remind us that life has more than sadness to offer. It can be difficult to see anything else when the eyes are full of tears; however, it’s important to understand that humans are complex creatures, and even in sorrow, we can experience happiness, beauty, laughter, compassion, and love.
As a pediatrician, I have unfortunately seen children die. Somehow, for me, it seems like the death of a child is a bigger loss. I read once that the tragedy of death has to do entirely with what is left unfulfilled. Children have so much ahead of them, so many happy moments and things to experience. Reaching my 33rd birthday, I have exceeded the age of all those children, and when I turn 34, I will be older than my mother was when she passed away.
I don’t believe that my mother is in heaven looking at me, but there is a part of me that wants to live and enjoy what life has to offer because she could not. Life should not be taken for granted. Therefore, until I die, I will try to be happy and grateful, to laugh, run, write, and share love with my family, friends, and patients. That is what my mother would have liked for me. I believe we should live fully for those who can’t. This is not always easy; it might take a conscious effort, but with some practice, everything is possible.
I want to thank the people who shared their sadness with me. I hope you find comfort in knowing that you are not alone. I hope this message is as helpful for you as it was for me: “Keep being yourself and your moment will come. Until then, never forget to live.”
Dedicated to HF