It is cliché enough, but as the holidays are looming ahead of us, I can only reflect on recent years, and say that my immediate family are my favorite people. When I was much younger, I used to love spending time with friends. We would play music, drink heavily, and then wake up early some mornings and head back to our families. These were the badland times of our lives, somewhere between 20 years old and close-to-30 years old. In those times, you aren’t sure whether you want to speed up or slow down.
Right at about 25 I realized I was an adult, because I talked to somebody who was 18 and had a horrible epiphany at the differences in understanding….yet I tried to hold on for five more years. I spent a lot of that time scraping myself forward with chipped fingernails, as I tried my best to figure out who I was and what I wanted out of life.
Now that I’m mid-to-late 30s, I think about time wasted not spent with my wife and kids, and I guess I learned a valuable lesson from that, because these days I love being at home and I love sitting quietly with them on weekend mornings not doing much of anything at all. Or throughout the week when we are all just trying to keep our busy lives together. Certainly, in that chaos, there is catharsis in our ability to maintain that stasis.
Regardless, there is something secure about them being my favorite people. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
