...going on 25

As i said in the inaugural post, I don't feel 50, however that's supposed to feel. I feel young, all the important urges still ever-present, and so on. And just like at 25, my wife and I are raising a baby. We have had our 16 month old grandson since he was born. His mother cannot take care of him for various reasons, so he thinks I'm Dada. I like that...very much.

As the old saying goes, if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans. I expected to retire early, once the kids were grown and on their own, and move to the coast or the Texas Hill Country, and take up the life of a wandering painter, traveling the countryside, painting landscapes and attending art shows. But the reality is the company I worked for sent its entire R&D effort to Asia, and after 25 years I was laid off. I used my severance to go to school to become a paralegal, and now I work for a great firm helping people with disabilities. I love the work, though I now make about one-third what I was earning before the layoff. Unfortunately, my retirement is gone, also - no pension, no 401k. I will have to work till I'm dead. On top of that, we must remain where we are for now for the sake of the baby, whose custody we share with his other grandparents. I feel he should have the same sense of stability and home life my children had growing up.

So in many ways my life is similar to what it was at 25 - baby, new job, no money. This is not at all as I planned, but it's a great life nonetheless. My wife is a dream - beautiful, intelligent, sexy as hell! My kids are happy and healthy. The baby is happy and healthy and brings us all so much joy.

I saw a great analogy used in another context, but (with slight modifications) it applies to my situation as well. Imagine you booked a flight to Athens. You made all the reservations, planned which sights to see, learned some of the language, told all your friends you were going to Athens. The anticipation of seeing Athens was enormous! But when the plane lands you find yourself not in Athens but Paris. WTF?!? You were supposed to go to Athens, not Paris. You went to Nice when you were younger and swore you'd never go back to France. You're mad as hell. You don't have reservations for a hotel, you've forgotten what little bit of French you learned, you didn't pack clothes for the weather in Paris. But as you walk around, you see the beauty of Paris, and the language you thought you'd lost comes back to you. This trip is very different from what you planned, but it's beautiful in it's own way.

I'm sending you a postcard from Paris.