"What does 39 and holding mean, Mom?"
It means I won't get any older than 39 years.
"I don't get it"
Someday you will.
...
Someday.
July, 2016.
"Wow, you're going to be 39 this year, Da"
Shut up, Dad
"HA HA HA"
For the record, this was the first and last time I have ever told my father to "Shut Up!"... in the almost 39 years I have been on this earth. Couldn't help it, though. It came flying out of my mouth before I even realized what I had said. Good thing Pops has a sense of humor.
...
Wow, 39. 39 and Holding. Finally, I understand. I'm pretty sure if I dug into my Dad's closet, I would be able to find the original "39 and Holding" t-shirt I had inquired about so long ago (after all, he still has an original teal Members Only jacket that he wears on occasion and I beg him to sell for "big bucks" on eBay. I'm talking ORIGINAL, people. Teal. From 1985).
39 and Holding. As I write this I think of the little gem my Dad often says, "Getting old sucks, Kid." Can't help but smile at some of the truth to that.
...
If you tell me a date, say 1982, I place myself toward the left in my mind, as if my life is a timeline found on the chapter introduction of a Social Studies textbook. 2000ish, I move toward the middle and 2016, I move all the way to the right of my memories, leaving blank space even further beyond that for what's to come. I do the same with the yearly calendar. In thinking of October, I move toward the right of my yearly timeline and if we are talking about spring break, the timeline leans left, indicating the end of March.
When you tell me 39, I see it as the dead middle of my life's timeline. I'm hopeful to live to 78 (or better) but somehow I have always thought of 39 as the absolute center of my existence.
And 39...could there be an uglier number? Almost old enough to check the next box when they send out the Publisher's Clearing House survey but too old to shop in the Junior's section. 39...should I be driving a minvan now? 39...should I feel "old"??? 39... am I now the "middle-aged teacher??? - Good God, please no" 39... What have I learned?
39 and Holding should be "39 and Growing"...
39 years. Wow, am I ever lucky? I have lived, loved, learned, taught, laughed, cried, failed, succeeded, and have found peace. I have done more than some people do who live to age 78 and I am still growing every day. If 39 is the absolute center of my life's timeline - I still have a lot to live and do and see and just BE.
...
39. Now I'm inching closer to the right of my life's number line. Ouch. With that comes aches and pains and age spots and stupid adult problems like money for taxes and preschools and the f'ing vacuum repairs and the dumb dryer that eats my socks. And the dishwasher. Could someone please invent one that loads and unloads itself already?
Sometimes I wish I could just rewind time like we used to on the old VHS videotapes that seemingly took forever. I would park myself in the middle of the couch on Waverly Road, turn the tv dial to some Sesame Street and eat Crispix Cereal and Five Alive juice for a snack. I would put myself at the beginning of my timeline, snuggled in close to my Ma and Dad and sister, and not have a care in the world.
So with that, this blog entry is brought to you by the letters "F and U" and the numbers "3 and 9"...
Kidding.
Kinda.
As for now, I will hold on to my Dad's gem, just as he does, with a smile: "Getting Old sucks"...or at least until he dumps that teal Members Only jacket.
