Bury Me in New Jersey

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milestones, schmilestones.

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In 2005, my mom was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's when she was 54 and I was 22. This SubStack is a collection of my writings through her illness and after her subsequent death in April 2023.
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milestones, schmilestones.

Bury Me in New Jersey
Jun 2, 2010
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milestones, schmilestones.

burymeinnj.com
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I am often amazed when the people around me make life decisions so effortlessly, or at least it seems effortless. This one is buying a house; this one is having a baby. Even refinishing a deck is a marvel of otherworldy knowledge to me.

I had this idea of what it would be like to be a grown up when I was growing up. I imagined great wisdom through balanced checkbooks, picket fences, and a the natural instinct to become a mother and that all these things would happen in my mid-20s. Now I’m passed the mid-20s mark and I’m wondering if any of these things will ever come to pass.

The reality of being an “adult” vs. what I shaped as my definition of being an adult when I was 14 are interesting. Also interesting is how this definition solidified in my mind and stayed with me for this long, even though most of these “milestones” don’t apply to me or my life. Even more interesting to me is how ludicrous the once “sensible” timeline for these things now seems since blowing past the ages I thought fences and babies would come to pass.

Don’t get me wrong–it’s not that I don’t think any of those things are great. I admire my friends who have them and I think these are things I’d like to have someday. But when I think of any of them in my own life… I keep thinking “I’m not there yet.”

My 27th birthday is in a month and a half. I have a pretty good job; I pay all my bills on time; I am married. I am able to keep other living things alive and have managed to keep myself alive. These are all big things for me.

But am I really a “grown up”?

At what point will I stop playing “rent check roulette”? At what point will I stop running 15 minutes late for work, running out with my hair still wet from my morning shower, doing my make up in the car? When will beer stop being an acceptable dinner? When will I just go and get gas instead of having to worry whether or not I’ll have enough gas to get to work and then get to the gas station before breaking down on the side of the road? And does the elimination of these things mean I’ll be an adult?

I don’t have an answer for any of these questions. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I will settle back into being comfortable with not knowing these answers. But until then, I have some things to think about while enjoying my dinner of Lucky 7 Porter.

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#blergh #insidemyhead #musings

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