Today is my 49th birthday. My last year before being a half century old. I haven’t written much lately, again for a variety of reasons. I’ve decided to come back to it and pick up on a Facebook task that I’ve done twice in the past, which is a slice of life for 30 days. It’s a writing exercise where one writes a slice of life for 30 days, except that instead of 30 days I’m going to commit to 365 days, my last year of being in my 40s. No particular subject or objective but to write daily about whatever I like.
I’m going to commit to two things. First, one entry every day for a year and second to write with abandon, not caring who may say what. That second part is a good portion of why I haven’t written in a while but that’s a different story. So, here we go…
Slice 1 of 365
50 years isn’t too long depending on how you look at it. In the scheme of the universe it’s a millisecond. Asking my mom recently how she felt about having a child who was almost 50 she said it made her feel old. I’m sure my oma, who passed away just recently at 95, would have disagreed. Her second to youngest grandchild, my cousin Heather, just recently had a baby so she had great-grandchildren spanning 23 years. I have a friend with an 18-month-old daughter and playing with her makes me feel younger than I have in ages although it may make my body feel old afterwards.
In terms of history 50 years really isn’t that much. But again it depends on how you look at it. 50 years ago we hadn’t landed on the moon yet, phones were still attached to the wall, I got up to change the seven available channels on the black and white TV and the thought of a cell phone was science fiction. For me that was childhood, recent history. For my kids it’s ancient history for savages who lived in the stone age.
Where am I now? Good question. Especially because I ask myself that question with the thought, where am I now as opposed to where I thought I would be.
I thought I would still be in Jersey, maybe upstate NY, living on a few acres with Lisa, the boys out of the house but close by. I thought I’d be semi-retired in a few years with some kind of fun sideline work. I thought I’d have the house perfect by now and my yard and gardens just right where I could just sit and enjoy them all. We’d be traveling whenever we wanted, seeing things together and just enjoying.
Well that didn’t happen, not even a little bit.
Instead I’m single with a 13-year daughter (who along with her brothers really is the light of my life) still at home and living in a house with no character and an unwieldy 2 1/2 acres, 2,500 miles from what used to be home and familiar. Jersey is no longer home or familiar at all. Work is questionable, money is questionable, retirement at all is questionable and no health insurance and I doubt any travel is in my future.
But ya know what?
Everything is ok.