so with 50 comes a couple of things right? the illusion of having as much time in front of you as behind you is painfully shattered. the whimsical response of “when i grow up” suddenly sounds trite and pathetic. for the longest time i would wake up feeling a sense of resignation that i cannot defeat time. when our first turned 18 i felt the terror of the tipping point, of time running away from me. now a sense of relief, a return to something we had left in Albany and it’s painfully bittersweet. but it isn’t a yearning, a nostalgia, we are not who we once were. it’s something else. a collapse, a sigh, we did this, we got this far, we’re ok now, a brief respite before the road ahead. but the road is indeed shorter with a sharp curve that i cannot see ahead of. and i guess that’s what brings tears to my eyes. that you will not want to round that last corner with me.