This was me a loooong time ago (circa 1979-80), back when the future stretched out in front of me and I couldn’t wait to get there.

I was standing atop the doghouse, wearing my favorite shorts (”favorite” being shorthand for any article of clothing I insisted on wearing every single day, without regard to situational protocol or the item’s state of cleanliness). They were red, though you can’t tell from the photo, and they were emblazoned with the number 32 on the left leg.

I’m not sure why the picture’s in black and white - I remember it in full color, just like it was yesterday.

If only.

“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.