You ever wonder how similar or different your life is, compared to when your parents were your age? Granted, I’m sure we’ve all thought about this at least once in our lives, but to actually sit down and think retrospectively about it?
In little more than a week, I’ll be turning 34.
It’s such a wild concept – I always knew (and hoped) that I would most likely live until well into my 80’s/90’s, but seeing myself becoming an age I’ve long considered deep into adulthood, it’s absolutely mind boggling. I still have random thoughts of “I honestly didn’t expect to live this long”.
In honesty, I don’t feel like an adult at times. At least, not one who is responsible and has everything figured out.
And thinking about my age, I find myself thinking about when my parents were my age.
When my father was 34 years old, our family was living in an apartment building called The Revere House. I don’t remember a whole lot of that apartment, but I do remember having a pink fluffy rug and a white crib in my small bedroom. I also remember KitKat, our pet cat, used to climb into the crib when Mom and Dad weren’t looking and snuggle with me during my naps.
And suddenly in April of 1994, I wasn’t living in the Revere House anymore. I started living in a larger (purple, obviously) bedroom in the house my parents still own to this day. I think it wasn’t long after when we adopted our dog, Kaydee, from next door.
When my mother was 34, she was busy raising me, 6 at the time, and preparing me for the biggest milestone of my entire short life – Kindergarten. Dad was still working nights as a driver at AG, and would often take care of me during the day while Mom was at work. But with this new opportunity to send me to school, Dad would be allowed to actually sleep during the day, instead of snoozing and having the occasional hazard of me trying to play with his nose while he snored.
Today, I can’t say I have a house. Nor can I say I have a 6 year old to prepare for the next 12+ years of learning and educational opportunities. I also can’t say I have a significant other to help around the house and bring in a double-income. But I can say I’ve accomplished other feats. Feats that are just as important.
I can say I’ve accomplished two Degrees, something only a few members in my family have done. I can say I took a chance and moved several states away without prospect of a job. I’ve written two manuscripts, and working on several more. I ended up working for one of the best educational institutes in the entire world.
Just from those aspects, I can safely say my life is vastly different than my parents when they were my age.
But maybe that’s a good thing? They were 34 in the early 90’s, where boom boxes were prevalent and people were convinced a little thing called the World Wide Web wouldn’t take off. For them, it was a time of peace to raise their daughter the best way they knew how.
And for that, I am eternally grateful. They may not have known it at the time, but they prepared me for how my life was going to be when it’s my turn to be 34.
And someday, I’ll be preparing my children for when they’re 34 too. I can’t wait to see how different their 34 is from mine.
