Part 2: To my parents

I remember very clearly when my dad turned 40. I was 12, still lived in the countryside and I remember he had a big party with his friends. I also remember him making a big deal out of it, saying how it changed his life, how it gave him a new perspective. A couple of years later, he would sell his business and take us to the capital city, where there would be better opportunities for his children

I don't remember when my mom turned 40, though. I am sure there was some celebration, but I don't have any memories of it. I also don't think it was as big as my dad's. Probably because we had just arrived in a new city, they were renting instead of owning a house, working for the first time for someone else. But most important, they did not know many people. It was not what it could have been if they still lived in the countryside.

I don't have many memories of my life in general between late childhood and late teens. My early to mid teen years were not an easy time for me, and I feel like my brain shut down those memories somewhere I cannot access. Besides, of course, my bad memory in general. My mom turned 40 when I was 15 years old, living in the capital city, in the eye of the hurricane. 

I don't think they were ever as happy in the capital as they were in the countryside. It did not matter to them, though. They were doing the best for their kids. And I am incredibly thankful for that decision. I cannot fathom the thought of where I would be, what I would be doing today, if we stayed there, in the countryside. 

Now, that I am the one turning 40, I am thinking a lot about my parents, when they turned 40. I know, I know, age is only a number, and there is nothing special about 40. But many people see it as the end of the first half of their lives. You're halfway through. I wonder how my parents felt. I wonder what was going through their minds. But above all, I wonder how they did it, with three kids under their wings.

I am married but I don't have any kids. There was a time I really wanted to, but that time has come and gone. I imagine it is incredibly difficult to have one kid - let alone three. It is probably incredibly rewarding as well but, for me, the price to pay became too high, and I gave up on the idea. It saddens me not to give my parents grandchildren, though. I know this is something they always wanted, and they truly deserve it.

I often talk to my parents on video calls, but I am seeing them in person in less than a month, and I want to talk to them about their feelings. I want to ask them how they felt, what was going through their minds. And I want to ask them how they managed to do it, how they managed to battle their fears and live their hopes, having to care for three other human beings that were, at times, horrible to them. And how did they do it so well. My siblings and I are good people, honest, dignified, kind and loving. We have many people and choices to thank for, but our parents were probably the most important ones. They were and still are our foundation.

We never think about our parents' feelings, anxieties, hopes, dreams. We never see their weaknesses and their flaws. They are our super heroes, our protectors, invincible in our eyes. There's a brazilian song that goes somewhat like this: "Your parents are kids, just like you. What do you think you will be when you grow up?" 

Here I am, turning 40, an age both my parents have once turned. I grew up and became what once they were. And I am reflecting on my life, thinking about the decisions I made, the things I missed, and what I hope for the future. They probably went through something similar. I just couldn't see. 

Nobody's lives are easy, and problems should not be compared. My problems, although small to someone else, are a big deal to me. But I cannot help but wonder how much harder it was for them when they turned 40. And they made it work. I hope I can make it as well as they did.