Maybe we start you with a few words or maybe we go straight how we got to put one more in the books and gained the ability to say I have beaten every bad day for 52 years now.
That is worth something, 18,992.61 days, 624 months, 455,822.64 hours or 27,349,358 minutes.
I asked Mr. Jackson, he who I met on the first day of kindergarten, how we got to be so damn old and he said one day at a time.
If memory serves he lost his father in October 2011 which means he has put in far more than the 1,021 days I have since my old man left this plane.
I once asked him if he had any tricks of the trade to share with me regarding these days and he said we just keep going.
That works for me, just like his response to how we got to be so damn old, one day at a time.
That is how I once got to be taller than him, kept growing one day at a time except than he managed to figure out how to increase his daily output and now that dude is well over 6 feet and I am not.
Does any of this have meaning or significance?
All depends on what you want to put into it. Reminds me a bit of grades, some people love them and I find them to be as effective at demonstrating skill as watching toddlers drive a stick shift,
Expected Dad to call some time today to sing Happy Birthday and laugh when I told him he out to take his act on stage, far, far away from here.
He didn’t call and I looked at his picture and asked him if he really wanted to be like his son and adopt a sense of time that only he could follow.
“This is the third birthday you missed old man. Third one and I haven’t received any maps to the lost Wilner treasure or anything else that will enable me to retire early.”
He didn’t respond to that either but if he did he would have said his father played a dirty trick on him and that he didn’t make him rich.
Grandpa would have said the same thing and laughed. I probably would have laughed with him. Maybe my own kids will get lucky and have a father who figures out a way to break that chain.
If I do they’ll reap some rewards, but I won’t tell them immediately because there is merit in working for a buck.
It is how your coal black hair starts to get some flecks of gray in it.
Been thinking about the people we miss and the people we don’t have to miss. Been thinking about those who are truly gone versus those who we haven’t spoken with or seen for whatever reason.
Been thinking about the stories of people who live with people they once knew well but now see as a stranger. Been thinking about the stories of people who talk about living with others but still feeling like they live alone.
Life is complicated sometimes.
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Been spending time talking to the kids about politics and history and how easy it is for people to make snap judgments that aren’t based upon facts or reality.
Some of these things they have heard me speak about for years, things like not wearing a sweater just because someone else is cold and why we do some things to protect society even though they may be inconvenient.
Talked about potential investments for the money they have earned at work, budgets and hard choices.
2020 was rough and so was a chunk of time before it. 2021 has been significantly better, but it has had its challenges too and some hard choices.
Probably going to be some more of those in the coming year.
When my eldest brought me a gift from work I tried to find a way to let him know how proud I am. He knows conceptually how far he has come, but I don’t know if he really sees it.
That is ok, I do and one day it will sink in further. Can’t screw an old head on young shoulders.
But damn, that smile he flashed at me today made me happy.
Caught me precisely at the moment I most needed it.
Thanked him and said he ought to try and remember this moment because these are the like ‘hope balloons’ you can reach back in time and use when things feel harder.
“Know it sounds like a ridiculous term, but there is truth there. Sometimes you have to find a string to tie around your finger or your wrist to help lift you up a bit.”
Happy Birthday Josh.
Thank you!