Life

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A 35-year old man, who I saw on jobs from time to time crashed an all-terrain vehicle.

He didn’t survive.

One of my brother Jeff’s college friends reached out to me, after all these years to tell me how sorry he was.

Was hard for me to have the conversation.

I felt pretty good going into the weekend, but my legs were heavy. I needed a massage, but hadn’t scheduled it.

Didn’t sleep through any of the last three nights.

My boy turns  21 tomorrow.

I fight myself because I feel anxious when I see him drive off down the road.

I sigh in relief when I know he’s back in his room.

That’s natural in life, right?

My Dad once told me that no matter what age you are, you can look back 10 years and think:

“What the hell was I thinking then?”

I often do that.

I look ahead too.

Ten years will fly by...

...and I’ll be on the verge of 64.

Crazy.

“Isn’t it wild that Jake will be 21?” Kathy asked. “It’s hard to remember them young.”

I have a pretty good memory.

I think of them as kids a lot.

I picture them as adults, doing this sort of thing as well.

And that’s life, right?

Keep plugging along, with love in your heart for where you’ve been, and hope in your head for where you’re going.

“Hey Dad, you remember when we went to the Yankees game in Cleveland and Sam hit me in the nose, and Matt started crying cause he thought I was bleeding to death.”

I laughed.

Yeah.

I remember.

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