At some point, we've had that friend that we were close to, someone who played an integral part of our lives. Conversations were had multiple times a week, there were regular hangout sessions... ya know, good quality time spent together. Then something happens and a week or two passes by and you haven't said a word to each other. Nothing bad, you're not angry or anything, just life tends to get in the way. They may pop up in your mind and you think, "I really should reconnect." The thought is usually followed by a feeling of embarrassment, "but it's been so long and I don't know what to say. I feel shame for letting this happen." Instead of reconnecting, you avoid. Before you know it, it's been three years. Life has changed so significantly, surely the two of you have absolutely nothing in common anymore. "We aren't even the same people anymore, but I'll remember our good times with fondness."
Scroll down a little and you'll see that young(er) man, with an infant crawling over his shoulder. Life has definitely changed and sometimes I feel like I have nothing in common with him anymore. Personally, professionally, emotionally, physically. Night and day. Occasionally, I would see Candid Thoughts and there would be that thought, "it's been so long. I don't even know what I would say. I'm ashamed for letting this happen."
Life got in the way.
About a year later, I became a fully licensed LCSW. I finally achieved my career goals of having those letters behind my name. Shortly after, I left community mental health and started working for a small agency that specializes in working with veterans and first responders. My little corner of the office works primarily with veterans and I couldn't be happier. These men and women have seen some shit and they trust me wholly to help them untangle those knots, and it's an honor. One of my clients told me one day that people in the military no longer refer to therapists as "shrinks," they are called "wizards." They later thanked me for helping them navigate this "dumpster fire" of a world.
Megan and I purchased our first house together in 2024. I'd love to say it's been an amazing journey of love and happiness, but it hasn't lol. But it's our home, faults and all. We work on it at our pace, but she's kept us safe and warm and happy (for the most part). We've built lots of memories into 12905, and I suspect we'll continue building memories here for quite some time.
To be completely honest, I don't remember a whole lot about 2025. When I turned 40, Megan threw me an epic birthday party at a local arcade. Complete with Little Caesar's Pizza, cupcakes, and Capri Sun juice pouches. It was a wonderful distraction from an otherwise dark spot we found ourselves in after we lost Nick to a brief bout with cancer. I knew I loved Nick, but I think it surprises me how much that loss impacted me. Matt and his family moved back home, and that has been helpful. 40 was tough, but we had family and managed to make it out. I would say that we made it out more resilient. The remainder of the year was primarily spent with Mom, helping her adjust to what this new life looked like. She may not realize it, but she helped me too. I've been blessed to have her, Megan, and Jack.
Jack. Oh, Jack. I could write a daily post about him alone. He's three. Our little "three-nager," so full of emotions and opinions. He loves finding those boundaries and seeing how far he can push them. But he's also so loving and so so funny.
Which brings us to 2026, and year 41. I rang in my birthday with my three favorite people and a table full of pizookies. The following day, I got to have dinner with some great friends. The challenges of 2026 are the kind that cause journalists to repeatedly use the word "unprecedented." If I would've told 38-year-old John half the shit that was going on today, I would've laughed at him and threatened to have him committed to OCCIC for delusions. But I realize that we are blessed enough, yes I said blessed, that the only struggles we seem to have at this point are of the financial variety. Other people around the world have it so much worse. Not only do we find ways to make end's meet, we're still able to enjoy what life has to offer. It may not be a trip to Utah, but a trip to Tulsa is going to be nice too. I'm still surrounded by people that love me and that I love back. I think 41 is going to be okay.
A few days ago, I got caught up on the show "Shrinking," and heard possibly one of my new favorite quotes ever. "Letting go of the past means that you don't allow your scars to hold you back anymore. What a shame to be 42 years of age and not completely covered in scars... they are evidence of a life fully lived." Here I am. Scarred. But, boy, I will never regret living the life I have now.
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