The Week That Wasn't and the Year That Will Be

Birthdays are funny things. They sneak up on you like some sort of cosmic checkpoint. A pause button pressed by the universe saying: Look. Look at your life. Take stock.

Yesterday was my 49th birthday. And let me tell you, it didn’t exactly unfold like the dreamy vision board version I might have once imagined. No cake glowing in some Instagram-perfect shot. No champagne in a rooftop bar. No seamless day of pampering and peace.

Instead, it was a mash-up of chaos, curveballs, and the kind of “are you kidding me right now?” moments that make you both laugh and cry.

But before I get into all that, let me just pause right here and say: thank you. Thank you to every single one of you who texted, called, DM’d, or took a moment out of your life to wish me a happy birthday. I felt it. Truly. In the midst of the madness, your words landed like little candles of light. And I am grateful.

Because here’s the thing: the day may not have gone “as planned,” but it was still good.

Messy good.

Human good.

Real good.

The whole week has been off-kilter. You ever have those weeks where it feels like life is just one giant test? That’s what this has been.

We’re still knee-deep in house stress. The move date is looming, flooring renovations have been dragging, and the leveling situation — don’t get me started. It feels like every time we check one box, three more pop up. Like some kind of adulting whack-a-mole game.

Add to that… Rowan. My sweet, stubborn, sensitive Rowan. He’d been sick for days. And by the night before my birthday, it all came crashing down.

Fever.

Pain.

ER visit.

The works.

X-rays, tests, the whole hospital circus. Turns out, pneumonia and a nasty kidney infection decided to tag-team him.

I was running on fumes, holding my breath while doctors did their thing, praying hard while trying to look calm for him.

And then there was the air tag thing….

Because apparently the universe thought I needed an extra thrill ride, I got a “Stalker Alert” on my phone. (Seriously it said that)

Yep. You read that right. My phone lit up saying an AirTag that wasn’t mine was traveling with me. Cue instant panic. I tracked it to the car. Gabe (ever the little MacGyver) grabbed one of those long-handled mirrors, like we were border patrol agents doing a sweep. He circled the Challenger while I searched inside. And sure enough, there it was.

For a hot second, my heart stopped. Because I’ve lived through this before. Years ago, an ex put trackers on my car. And when that alert popped up, I was right back there — fear flooding, adrenaline pumping, old ghosts knocking.

But this isn’t then.

This isn’t that life.

Still, the trigger was real.

As if that weren’t enough, my grandson Damieon was in surgery on my birthday. Another check-up on his heart, another step in his fight. That boy is a warrior. His mother, my daughter, is a warrior. And their strength humbles me every time.

It wasn’t lost on me that as I was blowing out the candles of my 49th year (metaphorically speaking), my grandson was lying in a hospital bed with monitors on his chest. Life has a way of putting it all into perspective, doesn’t it?

And Yet…

Even with the chaos, the stress, the hospital visits, the AirTag drama, the hormones (because let’s be real), my birthday was still good.

Brunch with my daughter Samantha and the littles. Time with Damieon’s laughter lighting up the room. Craig, my knight in shining armor, surprising me when I swore I wanted “nothing this year.” He knows me too well. He showed up with Tahitian black pearl earrings to match the necklace he gave me last year. I melted.

The boys gifted me my favorite perfume. We made steak at home. We opened a bottle of wine. We sat together. Nothing fancy, nothing staged, nothing Instagram-polished. Just us.

And honestly? That’s everything.

Here’s the thing I’m carrying forward into this new year of my life: it doesn’t have to look like the plan to be beautiful.

Life will rarely match the vision board.

Kids will get sick.

Houses will stress you out.

Ghosts from your past will resurface.

AirTags will give you a panic attack in a Target parking lot.

But love? Family? A good meal at home? A pair of hands that hold you steady when you’re falling apart? That’s what counts.

So, as I step into this next year, my 50th year on this planet. I’m not making a big list of resolutions.

I’m making a vow to get real.

Real about love.

Real about goals.

Real about my path.

To work hard.

To pray harder.

To listen deeper.

To laugh louder.

To make love often.

To live fully.

Because if this week has taught me anything, it’s that life is fragile and unpredictable and messy. But it’s also stunningly beautiful.

And I don’t want to miss it.

So, Here’s to 49

To presence.

To gratitude.

To choosing joy even when the plan falls apart.

To faith that holds when the floor shakes.

To Craig, my warrior, my protector. To my children, each their own universe. To my grandson, my heart warrior. To friends who come and go but never really leave. To clients who walk this path with me. To angels and guides who’ve never once abandoned me. To God, always.

To every breath, every heartbeat, every second of this one wild and holy life.

Here’s to 49.

And here’s to what’s next.

I’d love to hear from you — what’s a birthday or “life didn’t go as planned” moment that taught you something real? Share it in the comments.

As always loving you from here,

Rene Schooler

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This post was previously published on medium.com.