On the eve of my birthday, I find myself reflecting on years gone by. How when you're young, you're always wanting to grow up, waiting for the next big thing. Seems to me a marker of actually being old is when you spend more time recollecting the past rather than anticipating the future, and by that definition, I think I'm just about getting old.
Whenever Archer runs in for a big hug or Nick tickles Ellison until she can't breathe, I find myself thinking that this must be as good as it gets - our Golden Age. I think about how I used to think that about those first wonderful months as newlyweds - how I could never have anticipated this completely different phase being just as good, just as satisfying, feeling just as much like home. But Ellison came, and then those felt like the best days of our lives. And now with Archer, our little family seems just right, and I never want these days to end.
And that brings to mind something my senior (high school) English teacher said to a friend and me as we were making plans (dreams really) about our futures at big, important places like college (as if we had a clue - I was still convinced I was Hopkins-bound back then). She told us that whatever phase you're in, that's the best time of your life, and she feels sorry for anyone who feels he must look back into the past for his Golden Years. For some reason I've remembered her words all these years, but it wasn't until just these last few weeks that I really understood them.
You were right, Mrs. McGough. You sure were right. And with that, happy (almost) birthday to me.
