Some things take time. Like recovery. You know, like when some big thing happens in your life and you have to adjust, to get over it. You may have known it was coming. You may have studied for it. You might have meditated on it for hours. Probably you talked about it with friends or family. You imagined how it would affect you. You dreamed about it. In your heart of hearts you knew it was inevitable. Yet, you thought maybe, just maybe, it would not come. That the change would somehow circumvent you. You would be spared. And still, you knew it would come. The change. The event. The big thing that would change your life for ever. And you knew you would survive.
So here's what I am recovering from now: another birthday. To be precise, my 60th birthday.
Birthdays are curious things. And those ending in “0” are even more “curious-er”. They are only numbers indicating the passage of time, yet so much importance is attached to those numbers. And without them, would we ever truly realize how much time has passed and how old we have become in comparison to those around us? And if we didn’t count the years and mark the milestones ending in “0” how would we ever know we are indeed maturing like a fine wine?
And so I sit here in awe realizing 60 birthdays have come and gone. Who would have thought that it would come to this for moi? And yet, here I am and, for all intents and purposes, I am still here. Yet I still feel like the kid of 10, the youth of 20, the serious man of 30, the middle-aged guy of 40, the half-a-centurian of 50, all wrapped together in a package called getting older.
And life goes on. An I am in recovery from the jolt of realizations and reflections. And the best thing is I have friends and family who are patient and supportive as I muse my way through these times and share thoughts on life, love and laughter...and what might have been....and best of all, what is yet to be.
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