And so it happened. The calendar turned the page. The days turned to months and years. 50. 5. 0. Five 10’s. Fifty 1’s. No matter how you add the numbers it always comes out the same. I have officially arrived at the halfway point of life. It seems like yesterday I was sitting on a swing in my backyard wondering what it would be like when I “grew up”. Would I get to be an artist? Or a teacher? Or maybe a veterinarian? Would I play sports and win medals? Would I learn to sing and be in musicals on Broadway? Would someone love me and want to marry me? Would I have children of my own?
I was a dreamer. I AM a dreamer. But life can be cruel to the dreamers. Put that square peg back in the round hole before you get hurt. Don’t push the boundaries. Conform. Follow the rules. Be like everyone else. And I tried. Oh, how I have tried. And where has all of that gotten me?
It’s not that I’m scared of aging, maybe not terribly excited, but not scared. And I don’t fear the number. What does cause me to sit back and reflect is the question in my head, what have I done in 50 years? Have I used my time wisely? Have I made an impact? Did I spend too much time dreaming or not enough? Did I love well? Did I miss things? Then I reflect on the many many blunders I have made. So I guess this day is causing me to think. To look back. To dream ahead.