It's an interesting age, 33. One that I will retire in December, but for now I marvel at the things I see at 33.
Friends having babies, getting divorced, buying houses, getting married, experience turbulence in their marriages... there's so much going on at 33.
It's really a fascinating time.
Of course, I'm somewhat stunned. Justin and I are just bubbling along, happily married, hoping for kids, working and waiting on everything as his residency moves through the first of three years.
Meanwhile, I follow the facebook updates of Those With Kids. One expects their first. One expects their third. One goes to Disneyland with a four-year-old for the first time.
In the midst of the Economic Crisis two couples look at purchasing property, moving through Escrow while the burst of the housing bubble moves into banks that can't lend money to people. How they're doing it, I don't know. Justin and I continue to rent our apartment with no expectation that we'll own property anytime soon. Meanwhile, I can't imagine bringing children into such an unstable world (this morning waking up and realizing that the Terrorists did win when they hit the World Trade Center, it just took a few years for the hit to develop its true catastrophic result). I actually told myself, "people had kids in the Depression, I can do it now."
In a display of true hope in times of despair, marriages continue to occur. My brother is engaged, and I get to be one of the beautiful bride's bridesmaids. Their wedding is bringing my family a sense of excitement and something to talk about other than politics. Though, as required in the unwritten rules, we are all well equipped for political discussions at our family gatherings.
And then there are the relationships that test Forever After. Divorced. Moving. Arguing. It's so hard to see this happening, as we hold our breathes through separate conversations. The tension pitches Justin and I toward each other, rapt in our own love, wrapped in the comfort of our relationship. Justin remembers when we had strife, though neither of us remembers what it was about, that he used to be annoyed by every little thing I did. It is those very little things though, that were always there and that he used to love about me; that he loves about me now. He says he just had to realize that and tell himself not to be annoyed. As though annoyance were a choice he made. Is that how it works? Just tell myself not to be annoyed? I think of work and realize that maybe in some ways it is that easy--I practice telling myself that those little things that annoy me about waitressing are fun, endearing, important, something I can turn around, and I feel better about the job than when I tell myself how ridiculous and worthless it is.
I wonder about these relationships that seem to be on shaky ground. Maybe the air will clear naturally.
Here I am at 33. Watching life's milestones happen all around me. Maybe one day we'll have a milestone again. A little one. Not a sad one. Please and thank you, God.