GROW UP and be a really man.

Current mood: contemplative



Grow Up.



You'd be surprised how many times I have heard that phrase. Or maybe not, especially if you have spent any time around me at all in my 51 years. I'm not quite a candidate for the Peter Pan Club of little boys who refuse to "grow up". My wife likes to refer to me as "child-like" instead of "childish". I suspect the fact that I have collected comic books and toy trains since I was 4 years old has something to do with it. But mostly, these days, my behavior can be attributed to something else entirely.



I had a wonderful childhood. My parents were loving and caring. And although Dad was not one to say it out loud, it was always apparent that he loved me. My Big sister was also my bestest friend in the whole world. My brother...was absent most of the time. I grew up with him being a stranger for the most part. So my childhood came to a rather abrupt end when I turned 16 and I was told that my father was going to die of cancer. Hell of a birthday present. I did a lot of "growing up" in the next year as I watched my Dad deteriorate and die in the span of one year. Mom apologized to me shortly after Dad's death for losing the end of my childhood so soon and having to "grow up" so fast. Now granted, 17 isn't exactly a kid anymore, but I had figured that I would have all my teens and most of my twenties to be reckless and more concerned with having a good time than hunting down a job and becoming "responsible". Even though my brother was now part of the picture again, Dad's death kind of brought him back into the fold, I was told that I was now "the man of the family". It was cool. I loved my mom and sister and tried to rise to the occasion. I wasn't sure exactly what "the man of the family" was supposed to do, but I was willing to give it the old college try!



When I was 18 I lost my virginity. (yeah, I know, TMI...bear with me) Of course I ran to tell my favorite confidant at the time, my big sister. She was concerned or course. Insert all the lectures about unprotected sex and their consequences here... but she also seemed really down about something. During our conversations I asked when her first time was. I had no idea what was about to be said. Let's just say that I not only had to "grow up" a bit more that day, but I pretty much have not had much use for my big brother since.



When I was 19, I made one of the biggest mistakes of my lifetime. I joined the U S Postal Service instead of the Santa Fe Railroad. I had both jobs offered to me at the same time, and I zigged when I should have zagged. My upbringing suggested that the Post Office was a job for a lifetime, financially secure. One that I could eventually marry and support a family with. (I always knew that I wanted to be a Dad!) The railroad meant lots of travel away from home, even relocating away from my family. So I did the "grown-up" thing and worked for the Post Office. Goodbye dreams of being a railroad engineer, goodbye dreams of being a comicbook artist. In my mind, those were the wishes of a child and it was time to "grow up".



So the years passed. I married well. We had three terrific kids. We bought a house in a declining neighborhood. We became involved with some of the most dysfunctional families in Mesa AZ you can imagine. We went through two burglaries. Our house was burned down. (arson) My health started to decline. Things started to sour at the PO. And through it all, I was a "grown-up". I coped the best I could, I made a lot of lemonade. I reasoned and explained away a lot of stuff. And in the end, I learned a very valuable lesson.



Grown Ups get to grab their ankles and take it up the backside.



No one is there with a gold medal or a pat on the head to tell you what a good doobie you were. You have to hope those all those Sunday school promises of getting your reward in Heaven pan out. Frankly, I'm a skeptic.



So I did the "grow up" thing for a large part of my adulthood. I learned to become a "really man" as one my charming and slightly grammatically challenged nieces pointed out. When I hit 50 I fell back on one of my favorite sayings...



It's NEVER too late to have a happy childhood.



I always wanted to be one of those cranky, yet somehow charmingly eccentric old people when I become a senior. As my wife pointed out, I'm a cranky, somehow charmingly eccentric fifty-something now, so it shouldn't be much of a stretch for me. Point is people, I did the grown up thing. I know how to be a grown up. And I know when it is to your advantage to backslide and indulge yourself time and again. If it is ever within my power, I will never be taken advantage of or abused by family, friends, or neighbors ever again. Not without a reckoning. And I'm not talking revenge here...that would be rather petty...even for ME! Besides, living well is the best revenge. And bless their hearts, my wife and kids, in the face of all the adversity we have faced, have indeed, lived very well. We have each other. And we always will. That's the best of all worlds.