Tag Archives: aging

The End

This is the final post I’m going to write for Temple Times.

After six-plus years, more than 350 posts, and thousands upon thousands of words, at long last we have come to the end.

All blogs eventually come to an end, after all, and the words just don’t flow any more for me here. I have aged more than six very significant years. When I started this blog I was a 33-year-old newlywed, still living in San Francisco with my husband of a few months in our first apartment together, with a troublesome rescue pup. Now I’m 40, with two homes, annual world travels, several job changes, two homes, and countless home renovation projects – all documented in detail right here – under my belt.

There are many weddings, births, and deaths chronicled here. They bring me joy and pain to revisit. And I know I’ll come here often – just not to write.

This was a document for a different time. It was a place to tell stories of new things happening in an exciting phase of firsts. But the phase of firsts is over, and I’m looking for a new format now to document different kinds of adventures, in a new phase I’ve already grown comfortable with…

Let’s call it… mid-life?

So far, I characterize this phase as one of comfort. Confidence. Quiet. I simply no longer feel the need to chronicle my life. To curate it. I think I’ll always be a person who takes photos and tells stories, but those stories are becoming more personal, more visual, more abstract – and more private.

But before I go, I’ll leave you all with a few of my favorites from these six beautiful years on Temple Times. Not-ironically, most of them are from the beginning…

••••••••••

This home ownership horror story (well, at least, the very first home ownership horror story)…

This mullet-filled homage to pre-teen friendship

This epic re-telling of our wedding day

This sad realization of my changing hometown

The day Car died. And then the day she came back from the dead

The realization I will never be over UM losing to North Carolina in the 1993 NCAA men’s basketball final…

That one time Trent thought Boston was in the Midwest

The first time I told the story of my father’s death. And probably the last time, too…

Munga’s 60th birthday trip to Sicily

My obituary for my grandmother, Lucia

When we first got intimate with the bark beetles

The trippiness of my 20-year high school reunion

That time we elected a fascist president

How I figured out I was ready to get old

My obituary for my grandfather, Sam. In two parts

My 40th birthday trip to Sicily.

••••••••••

Look for me elsewhere out on the innerwebs, friends; I’m not dead, just searching for my mid-life voice.

[[ Fin ]]

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39 in Practice

Last week (and in most recent weeks, really), I spent a lot of time ruminating on what it means to now be 39 years old.

This past weekend – the end of Week 1 of 39 – I was in Detroit with my family. I tried to keep my father’s words of wisdom, about how “getting old is the plan”, present as I went to Anna’s 40th birthday party, and as my mom brought lots of friends and family around all weekend to keep my spirits high. She threw me yet another little belated birthday party, we had a little family get-together for an early Father’s Day, yada yada…

And it felt good, honestly. Especially as I spent precious time with this guy:

Grandpa with his father’s day “Sam”mich.

He is certainly fulfilling “the plan.”  Continue reading

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39

I turned 39 on June 2nd. It was a big deal for me.

My family, at the end of my 39th birthday weekend.

I’ve long dreaded turning 39. I think I was telling myself I was dreading turning 40, but that was a lie. I’m not afraid of 40 – I’m excited for it, actually. It’s a badge I’m anxious to earn. But I’ve been scared shitless of 39.

My father died when he was 39, you see. He did not have what most people would consider a “good death”. He was a young man with a wife and two small children – barely in his thirties – when he was given a devastating diagnosis. He and his mother were both diagnosed at nearly the exact same time, with the exact same cancer; they were each given just months to live. In hindsight, it’s very clear that both of their deaths could have been easily avoided by not subjecting them to radioactive, carcinogenic procedures to treat their (hereditary) thyroid conditions. But in the early 80s oncology was a fledgling field, ya know…

Continue reading

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38

Inched another step closer to the big 4-0 this week! YEEHAW!

OMG. 38.

OMG. 38.

But actually, it felt good. I know that sounds very unlike me, but – I’m not joking.  Continue reading

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37

37! Oy vey. I am 37 years old.

Wow.

My most recent birthday arrived a few days ago, on June 2nd. Am I ready for the final 3-2-1 countdown to 40? I don’t really know.

In a way, it terrifies me. I have a 20th year high school reunion staring me down now. Like, 20 years ago this month I was getting my senior pictures taken for good old Northville High…

Just one of my MANY senior photos. Yep – talk about oy vey.

Just one of my MANY senior photos. Yep – talk about oy vey.

 

HOW CAN THAT BEEEEEE???!!! Continue reading

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