It's June. June 2020. That year. That time.
CoronaVirus, shattered economy, Another Black Man nakedly executed by the system on video.
Tough times for all. Plenty of time to reflect.
A schoolmate Dash knew from grade school took his own life.
Macro and micro.
Growing Pains. Parenting Pains.
Both our jobs are safe; most everyone we know is healthy.
We're okay. But a fragile time.
And it many ways it will only become more fragile.
Consider our parents. There's no escaping their cascading fragility. We're not far behind (we have much farther to fall, but the erosion accelerates).
Youth. Full of vulnerabilities, some serious, but never inescapable. Even an emotionally abusive and oppressive homelife had a Set Free date. Broad horizons becoming more broad. Restrictions lifting. Powers growing.
As young people, the world seemed to - and kind of did - revolve around us. Advocates everywhere, we didn't even have to ask. People like young people. All you needed was a good attitude, and people were delighted to help.
We expected this. Why would it be otherwise? People were there for us. That's who they were. Our daily environment was staffed with people to help us grow. Why get excited about the norm?
Was it when we got a job, that people were no longer interested in what you were going to be? We're no longer a potential, a future, a hope?
Was it in our thirties where the cashiers just checked out your purchases and not you anymore? "Sir" started popping up.
When did that Fast Track fizzle to the Rat Race? The Struggle? Who put that ceiling there? When did the Big Plans go small?
When did I start shrinking? At this point, even in height - measurably!
When did I get old? When did my goals become to lose things more slowly?
When did things start becoming more difficult rather than less difficult?
When did unwrapping become a challenge? (What the HELL is going on with that frickin' blister wrapping?!) When did child proof caps start requiring me to borrow a child?
It was much more fun learning about anatomy as a teenager than as a middle ager (the doctor is now my prime source, and these new parts are apparently bad actors).
All these things can be explained or rationalized. Some even resolve themselves.
But the need for reading glasses? That's incontrovertible. We're. Old.
I shouldn't squat anymore. Like EVER.
What the heck is going on with my teeth and gums? Clearly these things weren't designed for the long haul.
Fewer people care. I need more help with things and I can't ask my friends, because they're too old and frail to help.
Our parents are dead and dying. We're dying. And we're increasingly on our own.
It makes me appreciate my youth. Twentysomethings are godlike; they bound with energy and seem to need tethers. It makes me appreciate all the people in my life at the time who were so giving.
It makes me appreciate that I didn't appreciated it then. I recognize how amazing it was, and, now, I'm thankful for the people who were there for me and for us all.
I don't feel guilt that I didn't appreciate it then, but I feel wonder that that was my normal. Our normal. Then.
Now, what I feel most is gratitude.
Gratitude that I got to experience it. Gratitude that I remember it.
And gratitude that I'm not all done yet.