41.

41 today. Chris has been gone for three and a half years. He would have been 37, but according to God’s plan, Chris is forever 34.

What’s different this year, from last year? First of all, I’m the one who designed the celebration and invited my friends to dinner, this year. As far as my birthday goes, grief is nonexistent.

I have a wish. Six, or so, of the courses I have taken at school have been taught by the same professor. I like his classes because his life experience in his work is extremely fascinating. The man works at Dana Farber Cancer Institute, which he announces at the beginning of each class, as was the case the first time I ever took one of his classes.

The second he announced his employment, I experienced a fusion in my mind. He was there, working, at the same time I was getting the news that my husband was dying.

I’m not sure what that means. Something psychological happened and I’d like to understand what that something is. Transference? I don’t know. I’m not opposed to asking him, as long as I can do so sans emotion. A simple e-mail would take care of that end of things. His job, in my world, is professor, not therapist. The trouble is that because he is a therapist outside of his teaching job, I keep feeling a pull toward him. I suppose there are worse things in life than recruiting my professor to lend a little bit of his day-life expertise to me. He offered his help in the past when I asked about missing class to attend a grief-support group.

That’s my very simple wish, easily granted if I choose to request.

Beyond that, my grief is manageable. The guilt I feel about my grief being manageable causes me 2nd-tier grief...or should I say 2nd “tear” grief.

Happy Birthday Me