Life, Death & Turning 39

I’m turning 39 at the end of the month. 39 is not that old. 39 is ancient. It’s all a matter of perspective. For whatever reason, I clearly remember my dad’s 39th birthday. I remember the yellow light in the kitchen, the German Chocolate cake my mom baked from scratch, my brother and sister and…… Continue reading Life, Death & Turning 39

On Turning 37

I was born roughly 1,924 weeks ago. That number is only slightly more arbitrary than the corresponding number of years: thirty seven. Age is strange. On the inside, I feel about twenty one. From the outside, it might seem like I am eightysomething, based on my much-cherished, early-to-bed, early-to-rise lifestyle. Nonetheless, I am barreling towards…… Continue reading On Turning 37