I was drinking coffee and reading the news early yesterday evening, lounging on a hand-crafted bench I built with scrap wood and a hand-saw when it hit me. I looked out my window, at the garden my 25-year-old neighbor cultivated that is now sprouting all sorts of fun stuff like real vegetables, without stickers. He was setting up plates and silverware for a home-made Italian dinner. I waved to him and was quickly invited over for the feast. It was a dinner party of about eight- all people my age. My neighbor prepared five different sauces for us to try. He offered me a beer- a very expensive looking beer. I thought… could this be happening? Am I watching my peer group morph into adulthood? No way, I said to myself, this isn’t real. Then they started talking about the wedding they all went to the night before- their old buddy from camp tied the ole’ knot.
Could it be? Am I… an adult? I wish it weren’t so, but the signs all around me suggest that indeed I am.
Two nights ago I was invited out to see ArpLine by a man interested in, err…. courting me. He stared at me for a Deep South minute and told me how he thought our hypothetical children would have really beautiful eyes. Then he added an $11 tip to a $24 tab and we took a cab home.
What kind of weird adult-land am I living in? Boys don’t tip like that. And they definitely don’t initiate conversation about our hypothetical children! I don’t even recognize myself. Desperate, I sought out an air of familiarity by challenging him to a thumb war contest and suggesting we do drawing exercises. “I know I’ve got at least one or two colored pencils somewhere in this bag.” I said.
When I came home I found my lovely roommate lounging on my recently hand-crafted bench and wiping a tear into my recently hand-sewn pillow. “What’s wrong?” I asked her. Her mom has been really sick for a long time. The family is essentially preparing for her passing. “Mom is back in the hospital,” she said. My other roommate was also in the room and quickly moved in for a hug. Her mother passed away from cancer three years ago.
Adulthood isn’t all expensive beer and obnoxious sauces. Weird things like death and sickness are starting to happen. Boys I used to throw water-balloons at are now looking at my blue eyes and birthing hips and shelling out 50% tips trying to impress me. What is going on?! Where is the guidebook? Is this adulthood? Does this mean I have to think about marriage soon? Who’s going to walk me down the aisle? My step-dad sucks, so do I elope? But what if I want my friends to come? Maybe my Grandpa can walk me down the aisle. But that means I have to fall in love and bag a proposal before he dies… Which could be any time at all now- I mean his death, not the proposal. Oy vey.
Did someone write a book on Nuptial Navigation, Family Fragmentation and Manners? Could you please?
What about dealing with death before adulthood?
Categories: Aging, Disability, Death, Dying, Childhood
Oh Alan…..this is tragic!!
You are indeed on the brink of adulthood!! Nothing could be more convincing than the events you so eloquently (and humorously) record.
I suggest you have a “last fling” to celebrate your fading girl-status.
Enjoy each single moment of every day…live joyously (but not dangerously).
I find your messages here ALWAYS make me smile! This morning I insisted my husband read what was written by you. He left the house smiling too. Thanks Alana for sharing these small glimpses of your (youngish) life.
Alana,
I couldn’t agree with you more on the need for good guidance on how to navigate courtship and marriage and other “adult” things.
Seems like all the older adults are too busy telling twenty somethings to just have fun, find themselves, and not worry about anything, that they don’t offer anything that’s really helpful in more serious life situations. Perhaps one of the reasons young adults don’t grow up as fast as we used to is because we aren’t expected to grow up! Instead, we’re told, by middle aged people with cabinets full of anti-wrinkle cream and Viagra, to prolong our youth as long as possible!
When dealing with death or marriage, though, you don’t really want to be told to just “go express yourself.” Ummm….excuse me, what does that even mean? Real help anyone?
Sheesh, you haven’t even tried heroin yet, Alana. At least enjoy stumbling through life on wine and wasted hookups for a few years, before you worry about any of that adult stuff. Fertility is over-rated. (and that tip was ridiculous. He can’t do simple math? DTMFA, that’s a bottle of chardonnay he threw away, and you’ll want that someday. The boy hasn’t a clue.)
Amber- I like you so much. You’re right. Our generation is having to raise ourselves because our parents were too hedonistic and mature into wise counselors or even competent role models.
John- I don’t think I’ve ever published a list of the drugs I’ve tried on here. I appreciate your assumption of my innocence, but I wouldn’t underestimate my street credentials if I were you. I’ve spent the majority of my time in San Francisco, New Orleans and New York after all…
yea. adulthood is scary. So many of the adults I know are just bad at life and haven’t set themselves up for healthy situations at all.
No one is providing relevant advice.
Or few are. That’s why I like to hang out with them here on family scholars.