A Half-Century of Life

Fifty years.

A lot can happen in fifty years.

I remember when my parents turned fifty. I thought they were old. I mean, OLD, with a capital O. And now, I'm that fifty-year-old. There is no way I am as old as they were at the same age.

I don't know how that works. It just does. Trust me. I'm a doctor.

The biggest difference is just how serious my father was. And how unserious I see myself. I doubt I will ever be that serious. I don't know if I want to be.

I'm a little embarrassed at how unserious I am, compared to what I saw in my own father. I feel like, somehow, I have failed at becoming an "adult".

And then I think it is ridiculous for me to feel that way.

So I sit here, looking at a half-century of life. I wonder if I've done it right, or at least okay. And I have some thoughts.

As I approached my fiftieth birthday, I was filled with emotions, thoughts — some darker than others — and was surprised to find just how much more this birthday was hitting me. In fact, forty was no big deal.

Fifty? It felt like a big deal. Intimidating. A real milestone.

I felt dread, if I am being honest. Fifty was a Rubicon I was crossing (which is sort of stupid; you can't go back from any age). It had me feeling nervous. Worried.

Worried for all the wrong reasons. I hadn't done the right things. Done enough. Made of my life what I should have by this point.

I wasn't serious enough.

But realizing I was having those thoughts allowed me to question them.

So I did.

The more I thought about my own thoughts (metacognition for the win!), the more I realized I was the problem. I was entertaining negative thoughts about aging.

I think many of us do. It seems ingrained in us from a young age. A cultural aversion to aging, a horribly unhealthy relationship with it, that I believe stems from our culturally unhealthy thoughts on death.

So, we fear getting older. We frown on it. We talk about it as if it were some unfortunate, inevitable beast creeping up on us.

But, isn't it so much better than the alternative?

Getting older is pretty cool, in that light. We should be happy for every year we have. Maybe, instead of hating on it, we should embrace it for the gift that it is.

Thinking of it this way, my attitude started to change.

I have an amazing family.

I have a wonderful, talented, intelligent, and funny wife with whom I love to spend time. We've been through a lot together over the past 28 years, and still enjoy spending time together, as our 2 weeks in London reminded us.

That is a victory. A blessing.

My children are (or are becoming) their own adults: impressive, empathetic, thoughtful, vibrant humans. They are living their own lives, fulfilling themselves in various ways. I love them all. We still enjoy spending time together. In fact, they never really avoided it. Seeing them become their own people, spending time with them, and enjoying them is one of the greatest joys in my life.

I simply cannot complain. I see my wife, my children, this wonderful family I have been so blessed to have, and I feel nothing but gratitude and joy that they are in my life, and I continue to be part of theirs.

Fifty looks pretty good.

That's not all.

I honestly believe I have the coolest job in the world. I have the opportunity, daily, to think, to be challenged, to use my technical skills. I get to be creative. I get to connect the dots.

And I get to do it all in the name of helping other people.

I am regularly humbled and amazed at how completely and quickly people are willing to put their trust in me.

I don't take that lightly. I recognize it for the honor and blessing it is. And because of that, I try my very best to be deserving of that trust.

Really, I get to do so many cool things. Fun (and challenging) surgeries, I see people's lives improve, and get to be a part of that.

It is even more fulfilling than I could have expected.

As a fifty-year-old man, I can now say I have awesome friends. That hasn't always been true in my adult life. I've always had people I was friendly with, but it wasn't the same. Over the last handful of years, I have developed a group of people I consider true friends.

What's more is the fact that I get together with them regularly. We spend time together, laughing, joking, being creative, and beating the crap out of imaginary monsters. Yes, we are all geeks, or nerds, or whatever. Who cares, we all embrace it. And because of that, we connect. We talk, we plan, we laugh. We enjoy our friend group.

And I work with some of my best friends as well. Every day I go to work, I am with people I value and who I feel value me. As a friend, as well as a colleague.

This change has made a noticeable improvement in my life. It has helped me overcome struggles I have had for most of my adult life. It has helped me learn about myself, and I think I have learned how to be a better friend.

Fifty is looking better and better.

I reflect on all of that and ask myself the question: What do I have to complain about?

Do I need to continue to try to improve? Of course I do. But I cannot turn a blind eye to the good in my life. And all of that good is part of turning fifty.

So I celebrate this age. I celebrate the people, the opportunities, and the challenges that have brought me to this point, and will continue to be part of my life.

Not everyone gets to do something they love, surrounded by people they care for — at work and at home — and make the world just a tiny bit better while doing it.

I don't look at turning fifty with regret, or sadness, or fear. I look at it filled with gratitude for those years and all they have brought me.

Because getting older is better than the alternative.