I could probably have had a huge party to welcome in my 40th, but the thought of dropping thousands of dollars for a few hours of fun was not how I envisioned 40. I wanted to prolong this celebration and since Airbnb did me well last year I decided it would be the natural choice to celebrate again. Much like 39, I wanted things to be simple. I had already planned a trip to New Orleans and invited my closest friends so in order not to be over indulgent I decided I would rent another house and invite a select number to celebrate (no children this time). I was very intentional about the guest list. With birthdays in the past I was of the “more the merrier” mentality, however, I wanted this birthday to be shared with people who were reflections of the life I have built.
I combed Airbnb for what seemed like weeks, for the perfect place. My only two perquisites were there be an outdoor space that welcomed sitting out with a nice glass of whatever, and an open floor plan that would allow my Mom to cook and not be locked away from the rest of the party.
I found dozens of spaces, and because I also run an Airbnb Experience and respect the essence of the side hustle, I was upfront about my plans to each host I reached out to. I began each request with a full description of my plans “ Hi my name is Winter, I would like to rent your beautiful home for my 40th birthday. I plan to have an intimate gathering of no more than 10 friends at your home. We will not be loud, we will respect your property and keep it very clean. I am also an Airbnb Host so I understand the importance of respecting your home. Please read my many positive reviews so that you can get a sense of who I am as a person.”
Even with what I believed to be a phenomenal pitch, like 10 Hosts declined my visit. Which inevitably made me want to start being less transparent, however I didn’t. It just didn’t feel right bringing a new year around the sun built on lies, or the predication that I wasn’t a grown ass woman who knew how to take care of someone’s property. After many inquiries I finally had a yes. A very hesitant yes, but a yes nonetheless.
I could probably make this whole post about my critique of the Airbnb but I’ll restrain and only focus on the positives of what was my 40th birthday weekend. I was fortunate enough to be surrounded once again by the people I love. My mother cooked her face off and the whole weekend was evidence of the love that continues to surround me.
There is something about having your birthday at home (even if that home isn’t your own) that just reminds you that a warm accommodating environment, good music and food that nourishes your body and soul, are really the only formula for a good party.
After checking out of my Airbnb on Sunday, I headed to a small brunch with friends who weren’t sick of celebrating with me just yet. I’d just had brunch a few weeks prior at Taste on Melrose and fell in love with the indoor-outdoor design of the restaurant and the not too sweet but very effervescent sangria. Taste was the perfect way to end the weekend.
Deciding to walk off the carbs at brunch, I got a phone call from LaJon letting me know that his father had been rushed to the hospital. I hopped in an Uber directly to meet him at the hospital. Without going into too much detail about a story that isn’t mine to tell, we lost LaJon’s father later that night. He had bravely battled cancer and succumbed to it that night.
I tried not to be a complete mess and stand strong or whatever it is you’re supposed to do for your partner during times like this, but I broke down immediately after learning the news. He wasn’t my father to mourn for I thought, I should be the shoulder that LJ needs to cry on not the mess he needs to comfort. But every time I thought of Mr. Miller not being in LaJon’s life I couldn’t help but well up with tears. Part of me also realized that this is the ebb and flow of life, the sign of getting older. Our parents who once seem invincible need our strength to lean on and inevitably, need us to be there for them, in return. This realization made even more relevant by the passing of another year of my life.
During the following weeks, LaJon handled arrangements, phone calls, mortuary visits like a soldier. Still while maintaining being a father, brother, friend and this overly sensitive 40-year-old woman’s boyfriend. He was strength and vulnerability and he never shut me out which just made me fall in love deeper.
With the loss of Mr. Miller, I wanted to find a way for us to get away and gain some much-needed solace, I had remembered that the weekend of my birthday a friend had been talking about going to see the poppy fields in Lancaster, it was supposed to be their last week in bloom so I thought what better way to celebrate LaJon’s fathers life than to appreciate it, right here, right now in all of its beauty. So off we headed on two-hour drive to see the poppy fields.
I have to preface this to say, I’m not the most outdoorsy person. I mean, I can appreciate a pretty sunset, you can even take me on a beginner’s level hike, but get me out in a climate that’s too hot or cold, with the “elements” disturbing my creature comforts…let’s just say I’m not the one. This, however was more than just mother nature displaying her beautify for all of us humans to gawk at and appreciate. This was a spiritual experience and if I’m not anything else, I’m damn sure spiritual.
The ride up took us through the winding back roads of the valley, where you commonly see “beware of horses” signs, and farmland separated by miles of space. Serene and calming was the nature of the day and exactly what we needed. Interestingly enough, the ride back took us on an alternate route filled with highway and shortcuts, which just reminded me that God had a hand on our plans that day and knew we were eager to head home.
The Poppy Reserve is an actual place, like an outdoor museum with trails you can wander around. However, the poppies line the highway that lead to the reserve so many people just get out of their cars and wander around the fields much in the same way. We did the same.
The blue sky, the smell of the flowers the wind blowing everything, everywhere, just added to the experience. Families all around trying to get the perfect opp. It was one of those times where you feel all in it together even when you’re all there for different reasons. I know you’re not supposed to stand directly in the poppy fields, so nature lovers out there please forgive me. I just had to take the moment in and lie directly in the grass and take in the moment, I knew that it would possibly be my only chance to ever again.
The final part of my 3 part birthday celebration series is up next week. Stay tuned to see how I closed out the month in New Orleans, as well as my suggestions on where to stay, eat, and party.
Those poppy photos are dreamy. Frame!