My brother turned 40 today. My baby brother, who is my only sibling to truly remember and understand the early parts of our childhood. Our relationship is a tricky one, at least to me. We are a mix of standing together against the bad memories, and subconsciously falling into the same traps of miscommunication and avoidance that we know caused so much of our family's downfall. At the same time we wear a shield of invisible uniformity. We have so many memories, and i am quite sure i will never get over those where he is in pain. Luckily i will always remember those where we laughed together as well, and though it's a precarious balance, i hold onto it as tight as i can.
And now he is 40. That makes me 44 for another month or so. Since i was exactly 5 years older than him, he always got the biggest kick out of only being 4 years younger when his birthday rolled around. My husband asked me the other day if i felt like i was 45 (almost 45 good sir). That was when i realized that as myself, in the context of me, i didn't really feel ANY age. i just feel like me. My responsibilities are different from when i was 20, and my face has more lines now and my hair has silver highlights put there by stress hormones instead of Punky Color, but i don't feel any different than i had as a much younger woman. i guess it's a bit like being a kid in school, you just grow in the same environment and it doesn't change around you, but when you go back as an adult it's so small! When i look around and see the other people and circumstances around me aging, that's what makes me aware of my own.
These are the things that make me realize time is happening much faster than i expected it too. i am now 15 years older than the age i still consider my favorite uncle to be. i begged Artax not to give in to the hopelessness of the Swamp of Sadness... 30 YEARS AGO. Even if he had listened to me, he still would have died of old age by now! Of course it is these kind of realizations that make me compare who i am to who i had planned to be. No, wait; expected to be- not planned to be. Because a plan is something you make to help something else happen. i didn't do nearly enough to make my present into what i thought it would be. i just always expected it would turn out a certain way, and by this age i would have accomplished certain things. Until you step out of the context of yourself, and can actually compare the life you're in to the life you had anticipated, you don't always realize the difference. You certainly don't see how much time has passed. And you sure as hell don't feel old... until your baby brother turns 40.
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