Birthdays are naturally a time of reflection. A review of the year, its highs and lows and the goals that may or may not have been reached. This year, the Bonnie Tyler song, Turn Around seems to pop into my mind.  The song is defined as being a poignant song that reflects on the passage of time and the fleeting nature of life.

This birthday approached with some melancholy. It is my first birthday walk in the reservoir without my sweet Tango. It is the 6th birthday since my son texted me “Happy birthday mama”. The first since my brother, my friends have passed…an obvious but mocking reminder that life at 16 has ‘turned around’ and is very different than what 61 years holds.

When 61 was reversed, 16-year-old me was fearless. I was a feminist, who raced go karts and jumped off swings better than any boy. I stood firm for what I believed in, hiding stray dogs from the pound and getting beat up defending a girl from bullies. I was courage in a tomboy body. With age, courage has changed.

Courage matures as we go through life. Experience grows a deeper understanding of reality than when we were young.  When I was 16, I did not think of the consequences of going too fast around a track corner and flipping. I knew it was a possibility, but nothing could happen, right? Life teaches us that yes, it can happen.  And it does and with that, our courage becomes different. 

It can appear like courage leaves us growing old and more afraid. But I think that courage never leaves. It rests within us, saving its self-up for bigger and more scary things, like cancer and losing a loved one. It presents itself differently than its 16-year-old version. It approaches quieter, slower but never weaker. Our courage develops into an almighty weapon. It takes our learnings and our fears, and it bottles them into a ‘red bull’ energy drink for our soul. Courage, like our body, grows up.

I recently had a conversation about how I have quit fighting the fact that grief has changed me and am becoming comfortable with the concept that I will never be the same. I think I have struggled with this for so long because I liked who I was.  Or perhaps it was because I felt I lacked the courage to ask my grief who shall I become with you.  Life changes us and most times we are not even aware of that fact. Until the song Turn Around plays on the radio.

When life presents you with a big bag of grief to carry, courage kicks in and gives you the strength you need to face the demons of life.  This year, my 61st, I will remind myself of that when I look in the mirror and ask, “what might the 16-year-old you do?”