Childishness

Is that a bad word? Sometimes it is, I suppose. If I was to say "I observed a bit of childishness at our annual homeowners meeting today" some might not be pleased. Personally I don't believe acting like a big baby is admirable. It became apparent after the nearly FIVE HOUR meeting(no longer hypothetical) that some of my neighbors disagree. That was the first annual meeting I have attended, and sweet potatoes that seriously sucked a**! I have since decided that I never, EVER want to be involved with any administration board, regardless of size. The only good that came out of it is that we are all still alive and we don't have to do it again for a year.

Speaking of still being alive, I had something happen tonight while I was reading a book with Annabelle. I was reading a story called Love You Forever which is about a boy growing up and his mother growing old, a powerful "circle of life" message. Every time I read that story out loud, I finish the book with tears in my eyes. I am overcome by a great sorrow when I think about our mortality. If I was an actor, I bet I could get great results pondering that thought for an instant wellspring. Annabelle gives me hugs and comforts me and that just makes me so completely happy that I cry ever harder. Then I explain that I am crying because I love her so much, because I am so happy to be with her. But there is still that part of me that is crying just for me. Just for all those moments of her life that I won't get to be alive. Is it childishness that makes me well up even now? Selfishness? I tell myself that death is the price of admission and I know it's the truth, but it doesn't make that lump in my throat go away. The only thing that helps me in those moments is holding her tight and thinking how much I should appreciate the Now. "Stop being a little boy, start being a Daddy" ,I hear my older self say. But part of me can't. I wonder if am I unique in feeling this way. Surely not. I wonder if that feeling ever goes away. I wonder if I will ever be happy about dying. Is joyful acceptance a myth? Somehow it feels so natural to be sad about being mortal. Is that childish?