It's my birthday today, 42 years have passed since I set forth on this pilgrim journey. Some days it seems like an entire lifetime ago, most days it seems like an accidental blink of the eye, like a spot of dust or a stray eyelash got in there and while I sat on the floor in the midst of my Legos, I somehow grew up.
It's become a personal tradition actually, for me to look back at my life and wonder if I feel any different at all. How old a tradition is it? When I was five years old my mom woke me up on my birthday and asked me if I felt any older. I thought about it for awhile and, smiling from ear to ear said, "Nope, not a bit!".
I've been asking myself the same question every single year since, and the answer's always the same. Maybe I like to sleep a bit more, maybe my back hurts a bit when I get a cold or the weather changes. I can drive now and I buy my own groceries and no one tells me I have to go to bed when the sun is still up. Still, me, who I am...that guy still feels the same...the same as when I was five. Melissa tells me that explains a lot.
So who was that little boy who blinked and grew up?
- he had just learned to ride a two-wheeler without training wheels and was still a little drunk on the freedom of it all.
- he had a huge set of Tinker Toys and loved to build the biggest structure he possibly could using every single piece. Then he would lie in the middle of it all and just stare up at the ceiling with a grin.
- he loved playing with Legos too. His favorite things were building castles (again, using most every piece he could find) and laser guns! "Pew-Pew! Gottcha!"
- his favorite thing was walking to the store with his grandma to buy mojos with the change he found in the drier, or on the sidewalk. Sometimes we would snack on wild raspberries if they were ready. Yum!
- he thought the world was an amazing, magical place. His days were spent trying to figure it all out from morning to night; How do birds fly? What part of a bee stings? How hard do you have to throw a rock to get it into outer space? Why do so many cool bugs live under rocks anyways? Why does the day have to end?
- he would often stop what he was doing; if he was playing, watching TV, walking down the street, making castles in the sandbox, looking out the car window on a clear night when the moon was full and seemed to take up half the sky - and just stare up into the sky and grin, from ear to ear because he knew that whatever joy he was experiencing right there and then, was being shared with a friend he had never seen, but who had never left his side, and never would.
Today I sit here, asking myself that same question my mom did when I was five. Do I feel any different? I still love the amazing freedom of riding my two-wheeler without training wheels, lying on the floor and grinning at the home Melissa and I have built together makes me grin, Lego lasers are as fun as ever and never run out of ammo, I found a retro candy store in town this year and was over-joyed that they had mojos...grandma was too I'm sure as she watched from on high, the world has grown more wondrous, magical and awe-inspiring with passing day, and I sit here right now, staring up at the heavens and grinning from ear to ear because I know that this day, as all of my days, is being shared with a friend whom I have not yet seen, but who has never, ever left my side and never, ever will.
Do I feel any different at 42 than I did at 5?
Nope! Not a bit!
Peace and God Bless,
CA
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