by tim walker
i never thought i would live past 30.
call it a romanticized notion. i was a moody john hughes anti-hero. a misunderstood, no one gets me misfit wrapped in preppy clothes.
wanting to be in the spotlight, but not really.
wanting to be loved, but not knowing what that really meant.
maybe it was because i had felt the sting of death of those close to me that i felt death was inevitable.
but i didn’t see much life after 30.
until i met my wife, jennifer.
then i had a reason to want a life beyond 30.
and then my children came along. grayson. hamilton. bryce.
life had new meaning. purpose.
and my 30s were pretty amazing. great things happened.
and then 40 hit. and life has just been in a no man’s land since.
it’s a weird time of life.
there’ve been some really great things. please don’t think i’m ungrateful.
but there’s also been a lot of just different. disjointing moments.
moments where i’m not sure where i fit, or if i even care.
moments of mystery.
the certainty of my 30s gave away to a blinding snowstorm.
and i’ve just been slowly feeling my way forward ever since as everything turns to white.
now the end is in sight—not to the snowstorm, but to my 40s. 48.
i’m not in a crisis. i just feel like there are so many cliffhangers, so many stories that have yet to be played out.
how will my boys turn out?
what will their lives be like?
what will life be like for jennifer and me?
will the storm ever dissipate?
will there ever be clarity?
i don’t know.
but i will keep doing what i’ve always done.
i’ll just keep doing the next thing. after all, i have some really great reasons to keep moving forward.
i know that stumbling lacks purpose. vision. but it is a long obedience in the same direction.
and for me, that may very well be what aging is all about.
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image courtesy of flickr.com/creative commons/by Sami Keinanen