Age is just a number they say, yet as I grow older I can’t help but look back when the number changes.
I celebrated a birthday last week, one year shy of “The Big One” and I’ve been thinking about my life since then.
I feel OK about who I am. I’m far from perfect, there is always room for improvement but on balance I don’t think I’m a bad guy. “Treat everyone the way you want to be treated”, not “get ‘em before they get you”. I’ve tried to live that way; it makes it easier to be with me. Maybe from time to time someone takes advantage of that, but at the end of the day I live with me, not them.
I still get sad these days. In some ways I miss Kev more now than ever. The despair has morphed into regret, not regret for what wasn’t said or done, but regret for what can never be. It’s not that searing pain anymore, just a sense of loss that never goes away. I miss his smile and sense of humor, I miss his company. I regret his lost potential, not in the “greatness” sense, but in the “goodness” sense. He might never have been rich or famous, but he would have been well loved wherever he went.
I guess the lesson I’ve learned with time is that’s what is really important. I’ll leave fame and fortune for others. I just hope to be well loved.
My father learned this lesson and taught me, I hope I was able to teach Kev in turn. Maybe last week, wherever they are, they raised a glass, I raise it back. I’m looking forward to seeing you two again. The Lynnwood and cold ones are on me.