Aging Gracefully

I'm not 18 anymore. No matter how much I think I may be the same as I was when I graduated high school, I'm not. I realized this about an hour ago as I was sitting at lunch listening to two people discuss the happenings of the day. I know it sounds amazing, but I don't look, act or think like I did 14 years ago. The strange thing is I feel no different.

Or do I?

As I listened to the guys talk about contracts and home purchasing, I found myself thinking "man, I'm glad I don't have worries like that stuff in my life."

Or do I?

Even as I sit here typing this blog, I can't help but feel like Doogie Howser at the end of another episode - closing in on some final thoughts after a moment of epiphany.

Perhaps I have lived for so long "not worrying" that I now fail to identify things that I should worry about.

Co-pays, mortgages. Hey, why did they change the PTO structure? What's that pain in my back? Should I declare 0 or 3 on my tax form? What the hell is this lawn watering diagram all about? Did I pay the Visa? How's CJ doing in school? Shit, CJ is writing below his level. Why is this bill so high? Weekend to-do lists. Does the oil need changed? Nope, just did that. But now the brakes are making noises. Wow, so are my knees. Why did they send another lawn watering schedule? Am I supposed to keep that? Utilities. Man, am I getting fat. Crap, better do a load of laundry. I wonder what color would look good in the kitchen. What's that smell? What's that bruise? What's that ache? What's that noise?

Don't get me wrong, this isn't a constant run of what goes through my mind - I'm not a freak or anything.

Or am I?

Nah. I've just realized that I'm not aging as gracefully as I thought I was. Is this a midlife crisis? I hope not. That would mean I only have about 32 more years on this spinning ball of dirt.

Wait, maybe that attitude is the heart of the problem right there. "I hope not. I need more time." After 32 years, a few run-ins with misfortune, reading headlines, towers falling, family/friends passing, wars waging, aches aching, hearts breaking, yadda yadda yadda, I think for once in my life I understand what is meant by "tomorrow is never promised".

I have a chance to do what no one in my immediate family has done yet - set the foundation for a legacy. I have tremendous opportunity in front of me that I have yet to fully tap into. I have a son that is very smart with a love for creativity. I have a wife that is extremely supportive as well as successful in her own rights. I have a family that provides unconditional love and unwavering support in everything that I do. For some reason, I feel I have yet to find my niche in the system. Maybe I'm not looking hard enough. Maybe it's right in front of my big Italian/Irish sniffer.

Shit, it's Friday. Did I bring the garbage to the street?

It's time to buckle down and start creating my legacy. I begin by saying that I'm no longer 18. In fact, I'm glad I'm no longer 18. At 18 I was only beginning to set the foundation for a life that would echo through eternity.

I'm old. I'm starting to get grey hairs. I'm overweight.

I'm a husband, I'm a father, I'm a business owner, I'm a friend.

Life doesn't look so bad after all.

So I'm blossoming a little later than everyone else. Why else do you think I have this man-boobs. Better late than never, though.

And as for aging gracefully? Fuck it, I'll worry about that later.