Milestones

When I was 13, I could not wait for the day I would turn 16 and procure a driver’s license. Driving a car would show the world that I was on my way to adulthood. Every red blooded American boy dreamed of the day he could take the keys to the family car and drive around the block, the envy of all his friends. When that day came, I saw it as a milestone, one of many in the life unfolding before me.


When I turned 18, I was required to register for the draft. The Vietnam War was raging and so was the anti war protest fever. I could be drafted and called upon to give my life for my country in a war that was becoming both confusing and unpopular. I could not legally buy a beer. I could not even buy a car without my parent’s signature, but I could be sent to war. To make things fairer, a new federal law allowed me to vote as if I was a full adult. I realized that another milestone was upon me, another marker in my quest for adulthood.

When I turned 21, I could not wait to try out my new public status. I had finally arrived. The law said I was now an adult. I could sign a contract and I could buy liquor. “Can I see some identification please?” was music to my ears when I was checking out at the grocery store. Yes, you may. Here, check my date of birth, if you please.

Turning 21 was an important milestone to be sure, but there were others, less age specific milestones, that followed. Life was marching on. There was my first professional job, marriage, the birth of my children, my first house and painfully divorce. Each milestone was a testament that life was unfolding just as it had for my own parents and their parents before them. My children’s graduation from college, marriage and grandchildren kind of snuck up on me, but still I failed to note that each successive milestone was also a passing of time. When you are 13, time seems forever. You are eternally young, healthy and full of yourself. Time is an inexhaustible commodity.

When I was checking out at the grocery store today, the young cashier asked me if I needed help getting my groceries in my car.

Food for THOUGHT…