The moments left uncounted...

Shortly after writing that last post I was hit with the realization: my birthday's haven't really mattered to me since the birth of my first son. He just turned five and all those anxious moments self-reflection that used to be the hallmark of my birthdays came rushing back. And it felt good, because just maybe, I'm not completely selfish.

We had a family party to mark his birthday this past Saturday and the greatest joy I derived from it was watching the constant look of pure joy on his face all day. He realized it was his day and not only was he happy, but I think just purely proud to have all the attention showered on him. At one point I caught a glimpse of him in the corner of the family room just sort of taking everything in and beeming from ear to ear. I knew that look...it was my "just press pause" look I've used when experiencing a great moment that I just wanted to take a mental picture of. Filled my heart, it did.

It also made me realize I need to be better on recording them. Sure, I've taken mental images of similar situations with the boys in the past, but I need to be better about writing them down. The mind is probably going already and I need to forever have a reference to those special moments. They are the moments that make you feel alive.

Hmmm.....

Let it be known that 35 might be the line of demarcation for when I crossed from young to old. I’m almost hesitant writing that because I’ve always believed that age was just a state of mind. And for the longest time, I’ve always been stuck mentally at 28, but lately there have been an series of events – most non-descript – over the past month that have me pushing toward believing I may be old.

Before getting there, I should probably explain why I’ve always been stuck at young. Actually in sitting here thinking about how I could explain it, I’ve realized I’m not sure I can. So, at least let me get to what stuck me a few moments ago.

I just saw this piece on Boston.com (http://bit.ly/5p3uAv). It’s sample from a new book documenting the Grunge era of music. There’s a photo there of Soundgarden from 1989 and another of Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love from 1992…20 and 17 years ago, respectively. It gave me a pang, or maybe a palpitation; I’m not sure which. Either way, they were taken along freaking time ago.

Another came when I recently thought back to when I first entered the workforce. My first hiring manager was 33 when he hired me. I thought he was old and had his shit together. I’m that old guy now and don’t necessarily know that I have my shit together. But in reality, I probably do. What’s worse is most twenty-somethings I work with probably feel the same way.

Again…state of mind, right?

What’s it all amount to? I’m not sure. What I do know is I haven’t been analyzing my life around my birthday in about five years or so, but am clearly doing so again. It was kind of peaceful and I can only hope this isn’t the start of too much self-reflection again. After all, I’m too young for that, right?