So. I turned 30. Yep.
I tried to get worked up about it, one way or another, but it all amounted to one massive MEH. Yes, I’m getting older. I’m halfway to sixty. I’m no longer 21 or 19, or whatever. Yes, I have all this awesomeness ahead of me. I don’t want to ever be 18, 19, or 21 ever again, so I don’t feel nostalgic; and I’m not amped up and thrilled about the future, because for the foreseeable future, my life will be just like it is now, which is good, really good, but I don’t feel the need to laud it.
I do remember being a kid and thinking it was forever between birthdays, and how each birthday I would think, Yes! I am finally grown up now and I can make my own rules! And when that birthday finally did come (19 for me), I was excited. It was a good feeling. And I haven’t cared about birthdays since then. I didn’t really care about 21, since I’m not really a drinker and was never interested in alcohol. 25 was nice, since I could rent a car without an upcharge.
It’s the ancillary things that I find it hard to get my brain to comprehend; the fact that it was 14 years ago that I knew my grandmother was dying, and would be gone in just a few days. The fact it was 9 years ago that Vor gave me that lovely pearl necklace for my 21st birthday. The fact it’s been 11 years since my grandfather died, and I watched him take his last breath. The fact it’s been two years since our first trip with Lis to Buffalo, just days after her diagnosis.
I do this thing sometimes, where my mind wanders and I find myself imagining or daydreaming or seeing in some weird out of body experience this situation where I open my eyes and someone else besides me is seeing through my eyes, with me. Usually, it’s my grandparents; so I’m imagining that my long deceased and much loved grandpa or grandma is seeing through my eyes with me, kissing Lis on the cheeks with me, meeting Vor vicariously, watching my fingers pound the keyboard at work. It’s a nice daydream.
So, I guess thirty has been weird, but not for the usual reasons (oh! I’m old! I shall never be young again! I’m going to die someday!). It’s just realizing how long past some of those most hated and most treasured memories are; it’s seeing how far I have come, yet how far still have to go.