on 35

I held the age of 35 in holy horror. Why? No idea. I think we all have some age that scares us. Perhaps it represents a turning point for our parents or a societal trope of our formative years, unremembered and buried in the subconscious as a terror connected to a number. Perhaps it represents the turning point from growing up to growing old. Regardless, I held the age of 35 in horror.

Being in the 30’s is a good time: The things that were apocalyptic in the 20’s are mere speed bumps and balancing the spheres of life is easier. As I turned 35 in November 2016, I had contracts to design sets enough to see me through 35, it was still a vague concept that I was deep in the throws of writing grants to fund. As I turned 35, my belovedest and I lived in a converted livery barn with my grandfather, then 90 and not quite bed ridden, and my father who was caring for him and keeping busy with creating a classy and unparalleled Christmas display on our 5 acres.

During the year of 35, I designed a show that was dearest to me, I innovated and I pushed past my bounds of past. During the year of 35, I brought people together and I held it together even when it seemed everything wanted to fly apart. I was decisive, I was professional, I was firm. I tried to build bridges and create alliances and raise the pond for everyone around me.

For the last months of 35, I hid at home. I was intensely ill for a spell and I was out of energy, gumption, and will. At the end of 35, I stood death watch for my Grandfather who passed on at 91 years old one week and two days before my birthday. I put a flower in his unmoving hand as I had put flowers in his room every week since spring. On the last day of 35, we are alone in my grandfathers barn.

Sometime in the future, I will not be young anymore: My womanly cycle will stop and my skin will wrinkle, my face will droop and my hair will lose it’s luster. Sometime in the future walking will become more of a challenge and running a dream of youth.

I am 35 for a few hours still. I can do a handstand and a cartwheel. I can run as well as I ever did, which was never very well. Everyday I read about something new — today I learned what Kant had to say about reason. I am 35 and I care about nutrition more than I ever have in my life. I am 35 and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. I am 35 and my dreams spread before me in a wider arc of desire than ever in my past, each one a possibility, but now more than ever I know that the dreams I choose to follow may leave the other dreams in the dust for all time.

Tomorrow I will be 36 and I am not afraid of it.