READ ME ... yeah, right. Right?

I'm sick of everyone else having on-line diaries. I want one too.

What is this all about? Maybe you should read the READ ME READ ME.

august 28, 1997:
to everything
there is a season

I'm taking off again! Remember last year?

(I wrote this for Geekcereal.)

My mother turns 60 on Sunday, and I will be at Burning Man at that time. This is a significant birthday for the two of us because in April, when I turn 30, she will be twice my age, numerically speaking at least. It is strange and fascinating for me to think about my mother at my age -- pregnant with her third child, raising a 6 year old and a 5 year old, married to a lawyer -- these are things I neither want nor have right now. Instead, I am a lawyer, and in the desert, looking around at the enormity of the world that surrounds me.

She's probably not jealous -- but maybe she is. I know that she doesn't judge me. And -- trust me -- I appreciate that.

Over the past several months, I have become friends with a number of 27-year-olds, who were all, perhaps not coincidentally, reaching a point in their lives where they decided that they had to change course. (Some call this the Saturn return.) Change can be painful, and it is nice to have someone there when you go through it, I guess. Sometimes they expressed regret or shame that they were not in a point in their lives where their parents were at that age. (They said these things to me, even though I too have nothing in common with my parents at my age, and I am almost three years older.) I don't feel that kind of regret or shame. I am okay where I am now, and optimistic about where I am going.

Last year at this time, I was confused, angry; I felt ripped off, out of control of my life. I don't feel that this year. To the extent that I could take control of my life, I have. To the extent that I was ripped off, I am now taking care of my own affairs. I don't even feel like the same person, in some ways.

I can only imagine what I'll feel, then, when I'm 60. If I am one-hundredth as generous, respected and as cherished as my mother is, I will have lived a life that has been fulfilling and honorable. I look forward to being almost 60, toasting to my mother at age 90.

Happy Birthday, Mom!
I love you.

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Copyright 1996, 1997 Rebecca L. Eisenberg All rights Reserved.