I turned 37 this year. An inconsequential age on my timeline here. Or so I thought.
While walking along the boardwalk downtown my daughter said to me, “You’re old dad.”
To which I responded, “I’m 37. I’m not old.”
My words went right over her head as she promptly got distracted needing to chase a pigeon off the pier.
Meanwhile, that phrase transported me back 24 years to Las Vegas. Sitting in Nate and Matt Williams’ living room watching this:
Never did it cross my mind that I too would be 37 one day and I too wouldn’t think it was “old”.
Tonight I trimmed my nose and ear hair before bed. As I put the trimmer into my ear a clear memory popped into view of my grandpa, asleep in his chair in the family room. My grandma walking up behind him with a trimmer. While he’s asleep she trimmed his ear and nose hair.
I stared as she did this amazed at how:
Age, like time, is a strange thing. It is steady and consistent yet my brain does a fantastic job of freezing it in places that convince nothing has changed.
Time traveling through these memories is a good reminder of the time I have left and the meaning I’m making without realizing it.