Coronavirus Part 2, Day 25- Growing Up Growing Old

An afternoon downpour has ushered in cooler weather this evening (70 degrees!). I slept during the rain and it was glorious, but now I’ll pay. The day has escaped me again. I’m rushing to make dinner to keep us on some kind of a organized meal schedule. Even though I got some good news this afternoon, followed by more (but weighty) good news, I feel I’ve got a lot stuff swirling around in my head and want some space to think.

Hairy Woodpecker

Today Steve and I celebrate 13 years of marriage. It doesn’t sound like much when I consider my parents for example, but 13 years ago, I was 22 when we set off on this marriage adventure. People talk about getting married and growing old together, but people don’t talk much about growing-up together. That’s what happens from my estimation, at least in the beginning. I don’t know what happens next.

I’m a big fan of psychologists Henry Cloud and John R. Townsend’s Boundaries book series. One of the many insights they offer is that age is a necessary but insufficient requirement for maturity. According to them, maturity takes work. They talk about how it takes work to learn how to be a fully formed person independent of your partner. Hence the Boundaries premise, and hence the goal for a non co-dependent marriage.

When you’re 22 and you own nothing besides a car and some uniforms and a box of civilian clothes and you don’t really know yourself, to get married is to embark on the journey of growing up, hopefully in tandem with the other twenty-something you’ve married. And I suppose we’ve done this, or are in process. It’s hard to know when you’re done growing up. Or maybe it’s like Pamela Drukerman says, and there are no grown ups after all.

With my celebratory sunflowers.

1 thought on “Coronavirus Part 2, Day 25- Growing Up Growing Old

  1. On my 38th birthday, it occurred to me that I was actually a grown-up and that I had been for some time. 😁 Before that, I thought I was preparing for adulthood. I still didn’t feel like an adult but I certainly was ’adulting’ because I had to. The truth is we never really feel totally grown up or rather at 67, I don’t. Maybe this is a good thing because if we stop striving we die!

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