Getting Grown
They say marriage is the sweetest part of growing old. My wife had a go at it last year, but it still registered on the getting old scale as a blip because it was during our honeymoon. Funny how she picked a wedding date two weeks out from her birthday, isn’t it?
Now it’s my turn. This week, I’ll be hitting sweet 27, and will officially fall under the category of damn near 30. As much as I have appreciated aging throughout my life, this one seems just a little bit daunting. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate each and every one of these last 26 years, but it seems like my life truly began at 25, and I have so much catching up to do.
Childhood is overrated. Sure, there’s no responsibility and it makes for the most precious of your memories, but it’s nothing like being grown and being grown with somebody special in your life. It will be seven more years before I can say I’ve had a driver’s license longer than I haven’t had one, 15 years before I match the amount of years I spent not being legally able to drink, and 25 years before I can say I’ve been married for longer than I haven’t been.
Makes me wonder how I even made it to college.
Most kids grow up thinking that they are missing out on the joys of adulthood. They really are. The places that you go, the decisions that you and you alone are empowered to make, it is absolutely exhilarating. And I have to say, I can’t possibly imagine the inspiration I would have if it weren’t for my wife. I was coming into my own as an adult before I met her, but I never knew what living for someone else meant until I found her.
Wisdom isn’t wasted on the young, and that’s probably the reason why you see old couples married for 50 years still acting like teenagers. They know the secret of eternal happiness with each other is in the process of growing together. So here’s to one more year of learning and growing. I only wish my belly wouldn’t be so quick to follow suit.
