43

I am a blessed man.  I have a beautiful, gorgeous wife.  A new wonder on the way.  A child I never thought would be part of my future, but I'm excited nonetheless.

I have two incredibly strong and amazing teenagers.  Cade, who I see so much raw, untapped potential in.  You're smart kid, do something with it – let me help, I'm always here.  And Cambrey, my “little girl”.  I know you have the whimsical, dreamer side, like me.  Refine it and find your passion! ( and no, you're still not dating until you re 35!).

But it's still been a hard transition.  43.

Some birthdays just come and pass with out much ado, then there are those that you just can't truly fathom why, but they hit you.  A brick against the head.  An ACME Anvil (circa Bugs Bunny, Wille Coyote) over the skull… And you still hear that damn road runner taunting, laughing in every “beep, beep!”

My body’s fighting me.  My emotions, even though I've done my best, are on edge.  My physical body is hurting.  All the time.  To the point of tears.  So tomorrow I go to another doctor.  Praying for some relief.  The ringing is just so prevalent.  And then Wednesday a sinus procedure to relieve some of the infection and drainage issues.

It’s been hard.  To the point where I found myself losing it over a curs-ed (said southernly) ceiling fan yesterday.

Growing a year older really isn't a big part of the landscape, but it just happens that this week everything aligns.   I’m feeling it.  And I don't really allow myself that voice.  The screaming I do inside is often just a muddled whisper to those around.  So without yelling, I just want to say I’m not done.  I've cried more in the last week or so the I have in a long time.  Everything kind of hitting all at once.  The pain, the need to carve out “space”,  the absolute desire to get little one’s room all settled, the struggle for family – and what that means,  the artistic “struggle” within, feeling the mountain air in my lungs, and the need to be open and talking to the one I love…

So here's a little openness…

I love both of my parents.  Even though I don't necessarily know how that works.  I love Kit, and I think he'll see that one day soon.  I love my new in-laws, though that is still a new relationship (here in Georgia we have shotguns usually attached to any mention of In-laws, but for now I think I’m safe – haha).   I am so deeply in love with the two kids that I see as coming into a really cool age.  They are on my mind daily – constantly.  Embedded I the depths of my soul. I will love little “runt”.  That's a crazy new adventure to come!

And I love My Wife.  But that is something that I will express to her, in private (Jenelle, Just know how much you truly mean to everything).

So I'm not apologizing for my age, or my condition.  I'm sick of saying sorry for what's going on.  I am, though, trying to find answers.  Even when the questions are still kind of fuzzy to me.  I know that age isn't the definer of my spirit.  I'm just battling to right the ship and set the course (funny side note – I keep a compass on the dash of my van and a special brass one hanging on my peg board at home)

I am a man who is deeply rooted here in the woods and the winds of north Georgia.  But just as alive roaming the city streets of my Atlanta.  I find that there is a distinct need to play, to create, to be the artist that I know is hidden down inside the years of dust and cobwebs.  I need to love, and those who are my loves - my wife, kids, family and dear, dear friends (Matt, Kelly and yes, even you Nate!) all need to know how much you truly mean to me.

My spirit isn't fettered by the strains of corporate religion, but I believe in God and the ragamuffin gospel of Rich and how he chose to realize his faith.  Im still not satisfied with my own spiritual views, but I'm continually looking, reading, even praying on occasion.  But I also won't deny anyone else their own views.  I only can answer for me. I just know there's something out there.

So this week I turn 43, KINDA (My kids always think it's so funny that I only have a birthday every four years, and that I'm only 10, and that in birth years I'm younger than they are….  I was born on the 29th, if you haven't figured that out yet), and I have realized that this is one of those harder ones.

But it's still me.  Still moving forward, even through the hard times.  Even when tears swell up in my eyes, like now. Still wanting to do something special, something powerful with the short time we have here on this planet.  Still traversing the trails and mountains before me.

Still me.