40 Years Young!

In less than three weeks on Thursday November 15, 2001 I will reach the glorious and unthinkable age of the big ‘4 0’. The most amazing aspect of me reaching 40 is the fact that I never planned on being this old. And believe me I had no logical reasoning for this ludicrous thinking.

I was raised in a family that consisted of many older men – my grandfather and father especially. My friends didn’t fit into the traditional television and newspaper media portrayal of black men and our society. Even though I knew I wasn’t one of the unfortunate ones, born without a great foundation, I still hadn’t developed a sense that I would ever reach the ripe old age of forty. Twenty-five was my magic number, old enough to know it all and young enough to enjoy every bit of it. Forty was for OLD people, close to retirement and unable to do too much of anything except telling me the right way to do everything. But before I knew it 25 became 30 and 30 became 35 and now I’m knocking on the door of forty. And Lord forty is definitely a trip.

My body, which I’ve taken for granted over all of these years, has now decided that I am going to have to work on it to keep it running. So I’ve tried to kick it in to another gear by working out religiously, but guess what? At 40 your body works at its on speed, not yours, and the battle is even greater. I can’t eat the food I love as much as I like because my candy and junk infested stomach from my youth, ain’t having it.

Accepting your own mortality, and the fact that its beyond your scope is another by-product of hitting forty. The concept of dying has never bothered me before the birth of my first child and it’s never been more magnified than at this moment, the 40 moment. I am going to die. I’m going to leave three kids with a foundation but will I be around long enough to finish pouring the concrete? My daddy who’s 64, told me that he plans on living for at least another 20 years just so that he can see his grandkids have kids. Now, he’s planning for 20 more and I can’t dream of four more - mid-life morality at its best.

I guess I’m going to sound a little hypocritical, but being 40 also has a great deal of positives. I love the maturity and the financial independence that being forty gives me. I love the way I look at forty, I love the way I feel and the compliments I get from keeping myself in pretty good shape. My Pop has always gotten stares from the opposite sex because he’s built like a retired middle linebacker - I’m blessed with his genetics. I love the fact that being forty has enlightened me with the maturity to raise three children in a solid and loving environment. I can’t imagine raising these kids at a younger age. I am living the American dream with the big house, fancy car, American Express Card and private school for the kids and a great job as a Project Manager. I never imagined this kind of a life as a kid growing up and I still get goose bumps when I take the time to enjoy the world I’ve been blessed and surprised to have. Surprised because my forty years are totally different from the forty years for a number of my childhood friends.

Jeffery W., who I grew up with me in the same mean streets of New Orleans, Louisiana, is a perfect example of how different this world can treat you in the same amount of time. Jeffery and I went to high school and college together but that’s where the comparisons stopped. Jeffery is as close to a brother as I will ever have but God decided to deal him a totally different hand. Now don’t take that the wrong way – I have always believed and preached that God brings you into this world with all the gifts necessary to be all that you can be, but he also gives you the choice of free will. Jeff’s free will directed him down a totally different path than me. Jeff’s somewhere in New Orleans strung out on crack cocaine and living the life we never believed could happen to either of us. The last time I saw Jeff, he was about a hundred pounds under weight, teeth missing and every minute of his short life, plus some he hadn’t lived yet, etched across his face. This could have been my life, my world, and my drama! But my forty, was my forty!

Maybe, with a little bit of planning, sixty won’t seem to be as difficult as I’ve made forty to be!

A few of things I’m truly feeling at forty:

The unconditional love of a strong black woman who supports me on each and every level.

My five-year old son’s recent desires to be just like me and the big hugs he loves to give me whenever I’m mad at him or his sisters.

My daughters who can wrap me around their fingers and give me reason to stay up at night and worry about the future of our world.

DMX’s new joint - especially track ten, Alicia Keyes, everything Anita Baker’s ever done and the Unwrapped CD.

My Dad, and the inner strength that he passed on to my siblings and I.

Memories from my childhood and teenage years concerning my Grandmother and the unconditional love and faith she bestowed upon me.

The brothers and sisters who I work with on an every day basis who supports me with their technical reasoning and their friendship, which makes it all worthwhile in the corporate American jungle.

Being able to pick up a tennis racket and step on a court at high noon, then play hard and smart for two to three hours.

If the next forty is as great as the first forty, I think I’ll take it all!