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“so scared of being older, i’m only good at being young…” -john mayer

March 2, 2008

i just got back to atlanta. i flew to pensacola, aka: home, this past wednesday for a few days. my dad turned 70 years old on thursday, so we planned a dinner party for him at my sister’s house. i’m pretty positive that i’ve had a harder time with him turning 70 than he has. 

the trip started out well. it was snowing when i walked out of my apartment. i hurried through the marta gate as the women who worked there were commentating on the low temperature. i swiped my card, and said “i’m going to florida ladies, have fun with the snow!” their teasing annoyance trailed after me as i boarded the train. i love flying home. seems that in today’s economy, it’s just as cheap and/or expensive to fly there as it is to drive. it’s an hour flight, and there’s something about airports and flying that i absolutely adore. i got to the tiny pensacola airport, with all 13 of its gates, and went to baggage claim. and there they were. my mom and the cutest 3 year old nephew in all the world. the beginning of a great weekend. 

it was wednesday, and where i come from, that means church supper, kids choirs, and adult choir. so i went. for the first time in years. went to dinner and smiled and talked in my high pitched voice to all the people who watched me grow up. and then i went to choir practice, where i realized that i haven’t read music or used much classical training in a long time. i also realized that some people do church the same way they always have… and it never changes. there was something comforting and familiar about it all, and yet something that was sad about it. it seemed to be getting older, getting sick, dying a bit.

thursday, i surfed. water? cold. extremely cold. but so much fun. the beach is so therapeutic for me. so home. and i went to the store with my mom, bought my dad a six pack of beer for his birthday,  and then went with my parents to my favorite grungy cheeseburger joint in all the world. and i saw old friends. friday, we prepared for the party at my sister’s all day. and then the party. and i was the only one there under the age of 40 (minus nephews). and there was talk of grandchildren and politics and old age.

and that was the day that it all struck me. my dad is 70, my mom is 65. and at some point this summer, i’ll be 25. 25 seems a lot different from 24. i love being 24. it’s been the most amazing age so far. i’ve felt truly young. but 25 isn’t an age i want to be right now. guess i shouldn’t worry, because i’m not 25 right now. but still, the idea that my parents are older and may not be around forever hit me hard this weekend. and just at the point where i’m beginning to really relate to my family, i’m not there to enjoy it all the time.

so today my mom and dad took me to the airport. and i checked my bag and went straight through security (which might i say, is a little stricter than atlanta’s) and sat down to wait to board my flight. and i got teary. i wasn’t ready to come back home. yeah, atlanta is home now. and i love my life here. but for today, and probably not tomorrow, pensacola is home and i miss my family a little. and that’s an emotion i’ve not really experienced all my life. and for today, and probably not tomorrow, i’m not cool with being 25. so it’s a good thing i’m still 24. and i’m going to be the most 24 i can be for the next 138 days! 

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4 comments

  1. “[A]nd yet something that was sad about it. it seemed to be getting older, getting sick, dying a bit.”

    Thank you for eloquently putting into words how I feel each time I go back. I hope you are well, and I miss you.


  2. home is where the heart is…
    there’s no place like home….
    keep the home fires buring…
    you can never go home again…
    age is just a number…
    seize the day…
    smell the flowers
    airline food sucks…

    (let me know if any of these cliches are working for you.)


  3. This is good…thanks for sharing your weekend…just popped in and glad I did…very familliar with these thoughts and emotions


  4. don’t stop this train, don’t for a minute change the place you’re in…



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