I’ve never really felt old in my life. Even now, at the young age of 63, I feel great. I can still pull an all-nighter in Vegas if that means anything.  I can hang with the best of them. And yet, somehow, tonight, something struck me.  As I was standing here in the kitchen contemplating the day of the year and realizing tomorrow is Laura’s birthday. I needed to do some quick math. Thirty-nine!!! OMG, my daughter is a year away from forty.  And right there and then, I felt my age sinking into me.

Where had all the years gone? And the myriad of questions flooded my mind like water rushing from a broken dam.  Where would I be if Laura was still here?  What would we be doing? What would her life look like today?  Married, children, divorced?  Hopefully, not the latter. And a heavy sadness ensued.  

It’s been a minute since she took flight, and yet, somehow, time means nothing. In the blink of an eye, here I am. Dancing alone. No one to walk down the aisle. No shared memories of trips taken together. No walking down memory lane, reminiscing about crazy things we’d done. No more “daddy”. And no birthday cakes. All of it comes rushing back. Nothing can be undone. 

Yes, thirty-nine years. None of it rings true or feels right, and probably never will. This is a condition that has no cure in this life. So I keep dreaming and imagining a life with my 39-year-old Laura Maria and a life we’d have in our own worlds, apart but always together.

As Willie Nelson put it, “It’s not something you get over, it’s just something you get through.”

bit.ly/SomethingYouGetThrough