Thirty-five

I turned 35 years old today.

Five years ago today, on my 30th birthday, I was in one of my favorite new wine bars in DC - probably a dire old place by now - celebrating with some of my friends, kissing some random guy I never saw again, and wishing (on a star, a napkin, a wine glass, whatever) that I could meet someone and start a family. That year, my wish came true, and now, just five years later, I have a three year-old and a 20 month-old and a husband who at least tries to understand me and I'm perfectly happy sitting home in my PJs at 6:37 p.m. (a time where I would still be at work, probably cracking open the tequila in my office with a few co-workers, in the old days), eating take-out enchiladas and watching my kids color (mostly on the kitchen table).

It's a bittersweet birthday, not only because it signifies the inevitable march towards 40 (which, in case you're wondering, I'd like to celebrate by being at an ashram in India studying therapeutic yoga...can somebody pass me a napkin please? We need to make this happen!) but also because I'm thinking about another 35 year-old I know, one who will not be turning 40.

Julio was one of those people who may have stayed on the sidelines during most social situations, but for a select few, became the star of the whole show. His laugh was absolutely musical, completely contagious, and often impressive, since he was usually guffaw-ing at the Chapelle show, or John Stewart, or Big Bang Theory, or old episodes of Friends which, let's face it, you need a firm grasp on the English language and U.S. culture to understand. Learning a language is one thing; learning the nuances and the humor in another language is a completely separate level, and Julio got it. He was incredibly intelligent, observant, and had a memory that just wouldn't quit. He never forgot a face (celebrity or commoner) and could quote lines verbatim from various shows. He and Becca used to find lines from Friends or other sitcoms or comedy shows to fit in nearly ever situation, and their bubbly laughs were enough to make this culturally under-a-rock person laugh from her gut, too.

He was moody, and sensitive, and he let very few people in to understand who he really was. Sometimes he himself couldn't - or wouldn't - allow himself to fully look behind that curtain. But he was one of the most loving brothers I could ever ask for, and despite a kazillion-kamillion cultural differences, he became a member of our family almost immediately after arriving just a few days shy of his wedding to my sister.

I miss him. She misses him. We all miss him.

On my birthday, on a day when I would be able to celebrate with another 35 year-old I know, I miss him and wish him well wherever he may be. May he have peace and happiness, at last, and may he watch over his beautiful wife and those strong, smart, funny, loving girls of his.