Growing up or growing old?

As some may know (some being the two people who read this), I turned 26 on Nov. 14. Sure, this could be a time for reflection. Previous birthdays, I've spent time thinking of all the things I miss — people I haven't seen, places I want to return to, the fun I used to have as a kid — and how it all seemed to be slipping away with time.

Each year since turning 19 basically (except for 21. I don't remember much, but I remember that one was fun), I've tried to ignore my birthday...minus the receipt of presents (which reminds me....Kristopher, where's my damn birthday present?) and on more than one occasion have announced to friends that I would celebrate my birthday by hiding in a closet. With a bottle of whiskey. And a straw. (The last one was when I lived in Waco, and anyone who has lived in Waco should know that easy access to whiskey is necessary to continue day-to-day operations). I never actually did the whole "hide in my closet" thing, but I always wanted to.

This year, however, was an entirely different beast. This year, I did not look back. I did not look forward. I looked at...the present (DUM DUM DUMMMMMM!)

Currently, I live about 25 miles from the beach. Close enough that my friends and I can take our dogs down there to romp for a while and come home and not have taken a significant chunk out of a day. I have a job that, aside from a few occasional stressful nights, I really enjoy and actually like to be there most of the time. I live less than 30 minutes away from three of my best and oldest friends, whom I've seen more in the past 7 months of living here than I did the past 7 years combined. In a month and a half, I'm moving in with my boyfriend, which is itself a huge step in growing up and getting over years and years of commitment issues, and I couldn't be more excited about it. Speaking of The Man, I've actually found someone who is a perfect fit for me in every way I can think of. I wake up happy on a regular basis. I love him more every day and am unceasingly amazed at how well he deals with me and my crazy. I now have stopped thinking my parents are freaks of nature for having been happily in love for 33 years.

My dog (who we have decided now is "our" dog) now has two kitty sisters (they were his, now are "ours") to alternately torture and play with. So they're just like real siblings, basically. Where previously I thought I had neuroses, now I've found that I'm just "Kim," and that it's ok to be me.

I'm actually starting to get a handle on this whole "finances" thing — with help from my very patient and kind mom. She has yet to give up on me in this area, and I love her for trying to help me sort it out and for actually seeing when I make progress. 

Last month, I was witness to a beautiful wedding. My brother married the most wonderful woman I've ever met (not to mention so beautiful you kinda wish you could hate her except she's so sweet it's impossible to).

At the wedding, I got to see my family. My entire family. The Denbys, the Templetons, the Dantones, the Waxlers and the Dallmeyers were all assembled in one spot. The love was palpable. I don't know that I've ever felt so safe and welcome in one spot before. Everywhere I turned was a familiar face, someone to hug and share memories with. There was great food, good music, very nice wine (thanks Dad!) and laughter at every table. And I danced with my dad for the first time ever. It was a very special moment for me, even though I know he wished I would pick a shorter song (I can't help it, when I think "El Paso," I think of dad). I cried pretty much throughout the whole ceremony and definitely the entire time my brother and his compatriots (known as "Flesh Wound") performed "Falling Slowly" for Kelley. And I was OK with crying in public. Somebody had to do it, I figure.

Even family members who are gone now were there that night, in one way or another. You could find hints of them in a smile, hear their laughter, see them in a familiar walk. 

My brilliant nephew will turn 14 next month, and it amazes me every time I see him. I've watched him grow up — in fact I've grown up with him. He's a beautiful kid, and I feel honored to be a part of his life. I'm a little sad that he's grown up sooo fast, but it's been fun and in a lot of ways, I had a bigger part in his life because of all the years I lived with my brother and got to spend more time with him than many aunts/uncles might. So while I do feel a little sad, I mostly feel happy to have been able to see all of the changes of life he's gone through in 14 years and look forward to being part of the next 14. Also, now he's well past the phase of telling me "girls are gross" every time I try to hug him, so that's cool too.

This has gone on longer than I really intended, but in reflecting on not reflecting, I seem to have found quite a bit to reflect on. And despite the fact that I did grow older, what really seems to have happened is I've grown up — even if just a little bit. And I actually liked it.

Cheers.