Today is my birthday. I’m 34. For the 22nd time. Not exactly Jack Benny, but I never was a comedian.
Life is ok. Could be better, could be worse. For someone who barely survived my first 56 days, it should be a bit more joyous. But it’s tempered by real life.
At 56, I am in good health overall.
At 56, I am “settled.” Whatever that means.
At 56, I am loved. But not the way I want to be.
At 56, my disability is static. Has been for a long time.
At 56, my story is far from over, but there are chapters that I will never revisit.
At 56, I am still running against the wind, but it’s harder than ever to do that.
At 56, my heart is still broken.
At 56, I am still a cynic.
At 56, I still believe in myself.
At 56, I still have hope. (only to be mocked by Sarah Palin)
At 56, I still feel lucky.
At 56, I don’t care what others think about me.
At 56, friends I had at 20, most are long out of my life.
At 56, I still have my wits and wit.
At 56, I am grateful.
At 56, I am angry.
At 56, I’m still here.
The genesis for the title is taken from the “Up” series of British documentary films started in 1964. It is based on the Jesuits tenant “Show me the child at seven and I’ll show you the man.” They started at age 7 and keep going. Their last installment was last year. I have seen most of them. The people have grown up, gotten married, divorced, re-married, moved, traveled, sworn off drugs, booze and sex. They have even sworn off participating in the series. But every seven years, they come back. Like moths to the flame.
Which brings this Detroiter to the man: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TF4kKdn5bpc