Turning 38
07/23/10 02:30
Sheesh. It was
my birthday a few days ago. 38 years old. Another
year older, a bit more grey in the beard (and in
the hair, much to my chagrin). I’ve noticed that
I’m old enough to be the father of ANY of my
piano students, now.
Had a normal day. Staff meetings at Church, a few piano lessons, some time with my kids, hung a picture for my mom. My kids gave me little coupons to do the things with them that I know they want me to do more often, and I loved it. Cathy gave me a book on astronomy and a biography of Einstein, both of which I’ve been eyeing for a long time.
We had a great evening hanging with my buddy Richard while all our kids ran around the house loaded on pizza a soda. We ended the evening with a round of Lego Rock Band that blew the roof off! (Highlight for me: my 8 year old son singing an epic rendition of “The Final Countdown” that almost brought tears to my eyes.)
Yet, I can’t help but wonder if I’m doing it right. You see, I can remember when my parents were this age, and they sure seemed to have a lot more together about life than I feel now. I mean, they had a plan, they had control, they had everything figured out, right? They could fix or find anything. And they sure didn’t play Lego Rock Band, either…
Meanwhile, I’m totally making this up as I go. Insecurity raises it’s ugly yet familiar head again and yells at me that I’m probably doing something wrong. Just not sure what. Did my dad feel the same way, too? As he passed away eight years ago, the time to ask these questions is long past.
Most dreams don’t mean anything to me. I know my psyche well enough to recognize the nonsense that usually surfaces in my sleep. I can recall only one other dream years ago that seemed to hold meaning for my life. This was (perhaps) another one…
The night before my birthday, I was up late starting to read Dune again (thanks, David!). When the light went out, my dreams were fitful, but I slept away most of the early morning. However, the last dream I had before waking caught my attention. I was walking through a crowded street, maybe a carnival. The images I remember are very busy and frantic.
All at once, I felt my father’s arms wrap around me from behind in a soft but firm embrace. I couldn’t see him, but I recognized his touch. He was walking with me, matching my stride, just holding me as I wandered the chaotic scene. No words, just an embrace.
I remember thinking in the dream, “Remember this. Remember what it feels like, because it won’t last long.” We walked together like that for quite a while.
I half-expected something random like a giant hedgehog to jump out, or my least favorite high school math teacher to come up and tell me I failed my final exam and had to repeat my senior year. But instead I gradually woke up and realized it was my 38th birthday.
And it was going to be OK.
soli deo gloria
Had a normal day. Staff meetings at Church, a few piano lessons, some time with my kids, hung a picture for my mom. My kids gave me little coupons to do the things with them that I know they want me to do more often, and I loved it. Cathy gave me a book on astronomy and a biography of Einstein, both of which I’ve been eyeing for a long time.
We had a great evening hanging with my buddy Richard while all our kids ran around the house loaded on pizza a soda. We ended the evening with a round of Lego Rock Band that blew the roof off! (Highlight for me: my 8 year old son singing an epic rendition of “The Final Countdown” that almost brought tears to my eyes.)
Yet, I can’t help but wonder if I’m doing it right. You see, I can remember when my parents were this age, and they sure seemed to have a lot more together about life than I feel now. I mean, they had a plan, they had control, they had everything figured out, right? They could fix or find anything. And they sure didn’t play Lego Rock Band, either…
Meanwhile, I’m totally making this up as I go. Insecurity raises it’s ugly yet familiar head again and yells at me that I’m probably doing something wrong. Just not sure what. Did my dad feel the same way, too? As he passed away eight years ago, the time to ask these questions is long past.
Most dreams don’t mean anything to me. I know my psyche well enough to recognize the nonsense that usually surfaces in my sleep. I can recall only one other dream years ago that seemed to hold meaning for my life. This was (perhaps) another one…
The night before my birthday, I was up late starting to read Dune again (thanks, David!). When the light went out, my dreams were fitful, but I slept away most of the early morning. However, the last dream I had before waking caught my attention. I was walking through a crowded street, maybe a carnival. The images I remember are very busy and frantic.
All at once, I felt my father’s arms wrap around me from behind in a soft but firm embrace. I couldn’t see him, but I recognized his touch. He was walking with me, matching my stride, just holding me as I wandered the chaotic scene. No words, just an embrace.
I remember thinking in the dream, “Remember this. Remember what it feels like, because it won’t last long.” We walked together like that for quite a while.
I half-expected something random like a giant hedgehog to jump out, or my least favorite high school math teacher to come up and tell me I failed my final exam and had to repeat my senior year. But instead I gradually woke up and realized it was my 38th birthday.
And it was going to be OK.
soli deo gloria