41

I hate that song by Five for Fighting, "100 Years to Live."  It depresses me every single time I hear it.  Getting older has always bothered me.  Not the idea of getting older, not the wrinkles or the grey hair (well, not too much), but just the idea of time passing so quickly, and knowing that certain eras of my life are over.

I still vividly remember the feeling of being 5.  I can remember little snippets - the joy of riding my Big Wheels as fast as I could down the sidewalk.  Singing along to "Free to be You and Me" at the top of my lungs.  The excitement of a visit from Santa Claus, which was only rivaled by my excitement at a visit from my grandparents. While the details are fuzzy, it almost feels like it was just yesterday, when I think about how it felt to be 5.

I remember an Easter when I was in junior high, an Easter where my mom didn't even pretend to have the Easter Bunny come visit.  I cried, and when my dad asked me what was wrong, I said, "I don't want to grow up.  I still want the Easter Bunny to visit."

High school was torture for me, and my theme song at the end of senior year was REM "It's the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine)" - very uncharacteristic of me, but it was a nice break from the emotional mess I usually am at these sorts of moments.

My twenties were a blur of finishing college, applying to medical school (twice) and then med school and residency.  My thirtieth birthday came and went with little fanfare, other than my first grey hairs. Then suddenly I turned 40.  A lot happened in the those 10 years, but it still seemed as though they went so fast. I was talking to a patient today, and we were discussing something I vividly remember. I went back through her chart, and was shocked to see that this event had happened 5 years ago.

The passage of time sometimes makes my heart hurt.  There are so many things that I miss because I'm too busy to notice them.

That passage is even more evident now that Finn is here.  I see little babies now and find it hard to believe that Finn was ever that small, that helpless.  And yet this time last year, he was.  And this time next year he'll be talking and walking - and I'll find it hard to remember the days before he could do either.  It's not that I don't want him to grow up, it's just that I want it to pass a little more slowly.  I want to have time to savor these days with him, instead of rushing through them on the way to the weekend.

I'm forty five for a moment

The sea is high

And I'm heading into a crisis

Chasing the years of my life 

This whole song makes me sad - as encompasses an entire life in a few short lines.  "Chasing the years of my life."  Doesn't that just make you melancholy?  I'd be happy if I never heard this song again, even if it is actually really pretty.  But the line, "100 years to live" - really?  When Finn is my age, I'll be 81.  I really truly hope I'm lucky enough to have 100 years to live.  I'd love to see him grown and mature into his 50s...

Today's depressing post has been brought to you by the number 41 for the number of years I've been alive, as of today.  And it has actually been a really nice day, even if I forgot to hang out the birthday flag, and Finn didn't give me a birthday present - he's present enough, I think.  I'm not sure where the  downer mood came from, maybe a crash from the sugar rushes of the day, thanks to donuts and cake and more cake.

To end this on a high note, here's my brilliant son at play.  He's so funny these days, I just love him: