Turned 40 yesterday. Was I happy it was my birthday? I don’t think many are, once they are out of their teens. But who am I to say that?
Given my genetic background I’m through with less than half my life, but it seems so much longer. And the last so many years seemed compacted into a space much less than one childhood summer.
It was a vague uneasiness, and a silence that screamed in such a cliched manner. It supposed to be a milestone, a major point in a person’s life. You change from young to middle-aged, you move from one age-demographic to another, you’re supposed to start winding down and enjoying the fruits of your youthful labors……these are the trite words that keep staring at me when I close my eyes. And when I open them, it’s a blank stare.
40 down, 50(?) to go….