I’m 36

I kind-of thought by now I had life figured out

I visited my parents today

In the house I grew up in

In my mind everything is the same – as when I was a kid

When I was 16 I had my birthday party at the bowling alley

My mom told me today of all aging’s valleys: cataracts, pain in the back, hearing loss

She forgot the rest of what she was going to say

My father’s shoulders ache

I walk over to the beach and stare at the Chesapeake Bay

It’s as flat as my affect

I’m not sure that my parents will figure out their i-phones

I hope my brother won’t forever be alone

What did I expect?

Even all my old teachers have moved away

Pastors and CEOs have expired

New kids line the soccer fields where me and my friends used to play

When I look around now, it seems like everyone is tired

I haven’t set foot in a bowling alley in years

I seldom hear from my old peers

At least this beach never seems to change

My Golden retriever’s snout is turning white

Like the strand of my hair

Like the seagull wing tips

Turns out we’re all just living in an eclipse

Of land and sea, heaven and earth

I’m not sure I’ll ever figure out why in the beauty there is so much hurt

Why childhood doesn’t last

Why my parents age

But like the animals, I know we’re not meant for a cage

So I return to this beach

It always takes me in

I look to the sky above – baby blue – and ponder heaven

I walk on as my cells turn over

I can’t make time move slower

I want it to stand still

I want to revisit my high school thrills

I want my parents to be young again, to relax

At 36, I’m at the impasse