“How is it I remember
knowing that I would live forever?
Isn’t it strange
how truth can change?”
– Toad the Wet Sprocket

Before I get muddled in contemplation, I want to send an acknowledgement to my mother, who, 36 years ago today, completed what probably remains to this day the most harrowing 28-hour stretch of her life. Not only that, but she did it without drugs. And at the end of that ordeal all she had to show for it was a screaming baby boy. But bless her heart, that was exactly what she wanted.

And so here I am.

I quoted the lyric at the top of this post for a reason. It’s one that’s been rattling around in my head since I first heard it over a decade ago – at a point prior to my realization that I wouldn’t live forever. Like many other people who were once young, I dreaded losing the illusory cloak of invincibility. I thought it would be so depressing to come to grips with such a passive-aggressive foe like mortality. Surprisingly, it hasn’t been.

To be honest, I’ve led a pretty charmed life. I’ve probably reaped a good bit more than I’ve sown. With the realization of life’s finite nature, I’ve been able to see this more clearly.

I’ve always been a melancholy person, but I don’t wallow like I did when I thought the world was owed to me and had the right to demand nothing from me. I appreciate more now, a trend I hope continues into the future.