So It Begins

I started this journey fifty-four years ago, and through many bumps in the road, I have come to a place to stop, reflect, and share my thoughts before I begin the final journey: the remaining years of my life. Some people say they could never live a long life; they don't want to age. I find that selfish because I want to live as long as I can and, of course, be as healthy as I can be too. I want to see my own family grow and be a part of their lives to share my stories of success and failures, the same as my grandparents did many years ago.

When I look back at my childhood, I can honestly say I have no regrets. Sure, I made mistakes, pick the wrong friends, or shut out the good friends we got mad at for a stupid reason. Of course at the time, we thought the reason seemed good, but now, maybe not. If I have a regret, it's not being able to hit Rewind sometimes. I would like to live some of those special moments over and over.

As kids, our feelings got hurt for silly reasons. We said things that were not necessarily true, and we tried to stretch the truth. We were creative in making up stories to stretch the truth — not to hurt anyone — but we used our imaginations. I would never encourage people to lie to each other.

Think about past conversations on the front porches of our parents' homes, in the backyard, or on bike rides to the local store with our childhood friends. We talked about our plans to be a doctor, teacher, or the next all-star athlete. On those bike rides, we used to pretend our bikes were the newest Cadillacs or a sports car we saw on TV. Growing up, we had imaginations; we had fun turning that two-wheeler into our first car or truck. Do you remember clipping playing cards onto your wheel spokes so your bike made a cool sound? It was fun using our imaginations and simple things at our disposal to enhance our experiences; we still remember them today. At least, I remember.

In the evenings, we sat as a family and had dinner at the table; we talked about our day and listened as our parents advised us. Mom and Dad were cool then. I remember helping to clear the table and asking my parents what our plans were for the weekend. Of course, they included visiting grandparents, having dinner together, and being a family. It's funny to think back and remember "making plans," "family," "together," and "listening." I rarely hear those words today.

As the days grew into months and those months into years, it seemed our childhood lessons and experiences quickly moved into young adulthood. Those long years of preschool and grade school now seemed like they never happened, but in the moment, I counted down the years until I could drive. In those years, we chose our friends because we wanted to be accepted at the cool lunch table. It was easier then because no one judged you for how you dressed or the bad haircut your mother gave you. Speaking of dress, I remember my parents telling me I could not go to school without a tie on. I was also into plaid. Okay, well, that has not changed, but at least I don't wear a tie.

Even as children, we looked to the future and never seemed to accept the current moment. Is that how we are programmed from the beginning? At that point, we wanted to know more, but that was normal for young adults back then. Our family values were drilled into our minds, and the expectations for our future still had to be determined.

Growin' Up

I remember wondering what the next floor of the school was like. As we moved from grade to grade, it was our goal to get on those upper floors. As you moved up, you earned more respect, and now I was there. I was one of the cool kids. Or so I thought. I had the same friends but with a new look and different attitudes. Young adulthood brought a lot of questions about who I was and what I wanted to do with myself. Do I plan my future, and will I know what the right path is for me? So many questions and so little time to think it all through.

Those conversations around our dreams began to focus on reality. My bike was no longer the new Cadillac; it was just my bike that I used to ride to the store for Mom. I now had responsibilities. I was growing up. Going to the store gave me the responsibility of making sure I only bought what was on Mom's list, and she knew the costs too. Mom wanted the receipt, and if I decided to buy some penny candy, I had to budget that in. Sure — she would always give me an extra buck or two.

I used to dream of my first real job. I remember looking at cars with my dad and thinking that I would own the latest model someday. He and I would drive out to different dealerships on Sunday afternoons and look at the cars and compare prices and colors. It was our time to bond, which I value to this day. I am certain not many fathers and sons have that type of bond today. Kids are hung up on video games and don't use their imaginations. Do they even dream? We all have dreams, whether we are young or old. Some, of course, we want to forget, but others we cherish for a lifetime. As we looked at each new model of car, I would fantasize about the color combination I wanted and all the extras. In those days, you were lucky to get power windows.

I cannot imagine the millennials having to manually roll their windows down or move their seats to adjust them. If only we could send people back in time.

My ultimate dream was thinking about my first apartment and moving out to share a place to live with my friend: staying up late, going out for dinner, and eating anything I wanted. But in some ways, I knew those were dreams because right then, I wanted everything to stay the same. Living at home was my safety, and I liked it.

For some reason, my friends began to be busy with other things. There was no time for those long talks about what life would be like. We had a social life now. We had responsibilities, which came to be known as chores. Watching Dad cut grass from the front porch was over; I was doing it now. Dad was on the porch watching me and drinking an ice cold beer. Beer! When will that happen? Mom had chores for me too. I helped with cleaning or taking laundry to the basement. Washing cars was the ultimate.

I never had fears for the future; it all seemed exciting. I knew life would be kind, but would it go smoothly? At that point in life, we all expected smooth sailing. I had life by the balls, and it was mine to live.

Was I truly prepared for the next phase of life? Honestly, I was not. I had feelings of fear, anxiety, and uncertainty. I think that's normal for anyone. You can never predict what comes next, but I had it in my mind I could control every aspect of it.

In elementary school, things seemed to be secure because the same classmates I started with in first grade continued on the journey with me. We were a team; on occasion, a new player joined it, but not often. We helped each other through so many life events. It was a family, and I feared what would happen after eighth grade. There were choices to make, and I knew my choice was not one that I would welcome.

Moving On

The people I grew up with and spent eight years of my childhood with moved on to another high school, and that was hard for me to accept. We said goodbye and went in different directions. I was alone now, thinking I had to work hard and start over...