Caterwauling

Birthday week. And a look back at four different weights. 

This is 42 now, folks. Onward and downward. 

So, my own personal Peter Pan contacted me on social media today.

All the feelings. ALL.

I am a lost boy from Neverland
Usually hanging out with Peter Pan
And when we’re bored we play in the woods
Always on the run from Captain Hook
“Run, run, lost boy, ” they say to me,
“Away from all of reality.”

— Ruth B., “Lost Boy”

I have been so scared that he was dead. That’s why I have never looked for him. I didn’t want to know.

Looks like my expectations weren’t too far off. But he’s left town, cleaned up and turned his life around.

And he came looking for me.

I don’t know what it says about me that I had to let him go. Probably nothing good.

Or maybe I have a small redeeming quality in that I always, always wanted the best for him. I just couldn’t be the one to save him. And watching helplessly wasn’t doing me any favors.

But he came looking for me. On my birthday week.

He’s fine. He’s great. He’s thriving.

I’m very, very happy right now.