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I turned 35. Please, remain seated. The morning of my birthday I woke up at 5am, laced up my trainers, threw my hoodie over my head and silently slipped out into the bleak dawn chill. You know it’s very cold when you hear your nipples sigh reluctantly. Normally I run to clear my head, to keep the realities of 30’s off my waistline (unsuccessfully) and to keep the cholesterol in its rightful place. Also, my gramps chipped from HBP, my mom with a heart condition so I also run with the remote hope of outrunning death. It’s foolish, yes, but it makes me happy, this massive momentum of immortality.

But that morning I ran for different reason; I ran because I was slightly anxious of the very idea of 35. Of being five years from 40 and another half dozen years to the life expectancy of a man in Kenya. Five minutes into the run, it started drizzling, that incessant drizzle that puts a decent puddle in your shoes. But I wasn’t going to turn back, so I dutifully put one foot before the other. Running in the rain has the same feeling like siting in a shrink’s chair; you are compelled to evaluate, to introspect.

It wasn’t long before John Mayer’s, “Stop This Train,” started looping in my head. That wicked guitar, that voice that gives you fears a face. Don’t know what else to say it, don’t want to see my parents go, Mayer sang in my head. The older you grow, the closer your parents inch towards their graves. Unlike Mayer, I’m more fearless in that front. I already lost mom, once you have lost your mother – apart from your child – there is no loss that can possibly top that. Losing your mother leaves a massive ugly crater in your heart, one that when it rains – like it was when I was pounding the lam that morning – fills it with such bitterness and horrid loneliness.

So scared of getting older, I’m only good at being young, Mayer continued singing. So I play the numbers again and find a way to say that life has just begun/ stop this train, I want to get off and go home again/ I can’t take this speed it’s moving in…

And because the reality is that we can’t stop this train, because this train will continue moving even in our absence, I find myself on Ngong Road later that morning. I find myself seated in a chair in a scruffy living room because I want to subscribe to those maxims that you will read from great men who almost figured life; I want focus less on the moving train and more on enjoying the locomotion. Corny like hell.

The hour hand of the clock above pokes at 9. There is a mobile phone in the bedroom that has this ugly sms-tone of a bulimic song that I was later to learn is a Korean hit called Gangnam Style. It’s the kind of rubbish song that Nairobi’s “socialites” adopt as their own unique anthem that sets them apart from the rest of the peasants. Every time that phone received an sms – and it did receive many – that song started playing Gangnam Style and I felt my bladder fill.

On the seat on my side, also waiting, was an agreeable gentleman who introduced himself as Coco. Given the conversation he had been having with our host, I figured he hosts a night-show on some radio station. Next to him was his company, a pleasant and calm mixed race chick with seemingly proper breeding. Although we are all in that room for one thing, our reasons, I’m certain, remained virtually parallel.

Our host was a poster-child of quirky; a cylindrical tube lodged into his earlobes like a pseudo-Maasai, dreadlocks tied up behind his head like Maxi Priest, old stubble, a body swathed with tattoos, fashionably knackered look and a scratching voice that gnawed at us like a greyhound’s bite. He’s called Newton and he wanted my shirt off. Then he got to work, the master himself, the best from Malindi to Cape Town. Ask around; ask for Newton and you will hear of his fame, his dexterity with ink and his needle. You will also hear that he was the first black invitee to the Cape Town Tattoo Convention this year. He finished with me in 45mins flat. I didn’t cry. I wanted to, but I couldn’t -there was a lady in the room after all.

That evening I walked in the house and removed my shirt and showed my, now-raw, bicep to Tamms. She squealed, “That’s my name!” I wouldn’t say she was excited at me tattooing her name on me, more like intrigued.

At 30 I wanted to get a tattoo but the missus took exception and said it was sort of “demonic.” That it just wasn’t something I would do, that it was “out of my character.” And she was right, about the character bit, I don’t know about the demonic bit. . I think demonic is when you wear red skinny jeans and curly kit your hair. Then carry a violin. Demonic to the

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end. Good thing I didn’t because I would have had a tattoo of something senseless, like a scorpion. Or a barbed wire

I don’t pierce and I don’t ink, I have never, but 35 will put you in a different place. You want to define that age with something timeless, because unlike turning 30 – a bewildering time when you are grasping with the notion of self qualification – 35 is a safe house of adulthood where you hanker in to contemplate and stock-take. It makes you think of yourself and it makes you selfish and surely every man is allowed selfishness every five years. OK, maybe 10.

So I showered and waited for the missus to get back home and give me a windy dress down on how I don’t consult, how I will so burn in hell because of my juvenile whims, how I have lost focus and how she is totally disgusted by me dragging “the baby’s name” in my trivial demonic hedonism (She still calls Tamms “the baby” but between me and you I think you revoke the title of being called “the baby’ when you are able to finish a whole medium pizza, alone!).

This is a tip for those living with women. If you have to break some bad news to her, if you have to make an admission that’s going to get her goat, don’t wait until after they have showered (assuming yours shower. I hear some don’t. God bless you strong fellows). Always ambush them before they put their purses down, before they settle down and get their bearing. Always ambush them while they are still breathless from the traffic jam, this is the time they are too tired to kick up dust. Trust me it works.

So I showed her the tattoo before her purse hit the bed and she stood there looking at it like you would look at a child with a running nose.

“Nice huh?” I said unconvincingly.

“A

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tattoo,” she mumbled. No, a bowl of spaghetti, I wanted to say but it just wasn’t the time for humour.

“Does it hurt?” she asked moving closer to it, and I instinctively stepped back because I was certain she would grab my arm and bite it or twist it, anything that would maim the devil’s agent forever. “ No, just a sting.” I said all macho and shit. She stared at it for a while before finally saying it’s “OK”. Then she started talking about something else, something about work, or shoes, or her cousin or her brothers. Then she went to shower and when she came back she suspiciously didn’t mention the tattoo that evening. Or the next. Days have since passed and she hasn’t said anything! You are thinking exactly what I’m thinking; this is not over! Something’s a foot. Hardy Boy’s used to say the clue to a crime is that the dog that didn’t bark.

She’s planning something, and she’s waiting for me to get comfortable then she will move in for the kill (and this is not a pun). I have, since, decided not to leave my back exposed to her. Or my arm for that matter. I tell you that woman is planning something dark. I can see from her eyes, how she looks at my arm. And if I ever disappear, Gang, if you never hear from me and she says I went back to Kendu Bay to keep company my grieving father, please don’t believe that hogwash. Don’t stop looking for me, or my arm. Don’t give up on me.

***

Mid-thirties, huh? This means that I’m changing. This means that I have already changed. I wonder if I’m any different than I was at 30 and honestly I think I am. I also wonder if I like me at 35 than I did at 30 and I think not necessarily. I’m more impatient now at 35. I anger faster now. I worry more now about stuff like my health and the people close to me. I worry about money, about the life I will lead after sunset. I worry sick about being called by my daughter’s school because something happened to her. That would – with all certainty – irredeemably crush my spirit.

My expectations of people are much lower now than it ever was at the beginning of this decade. Which means I value friendships less now than I have ever. Now I question less why people do certain things, I simply stop acknowledging them. My cynicism of things, of happenings, is at its all time highest. I’m more dismissive now than I ever been, more impatient. I think less of love or of being loved. It doesn’t worry me as it did ten years ago. I don’t care to be loved, I care to be respected, and understood. The greatest virtue has stopped being love; I don’t think love makes the world go round, I think its compassion.

But for all these flaws and shortcomings, you will be surprised to learn that I’m happier now than I was at 30. I’m less forgiving now than before because I generally care less for the things that used to get my knickers in a twist before. This attracts happiness because when you care less you avoid heart diseases and ulcers. I let go easily now, of people, of emotions, which means it’s much harder to hurt me now than it was at, say, 28. I might anger faster now, but I cool off faster too. I certainly drink less now than I used to drink at 30, and when I do I drink better drinks now simply because I can afford what I want to drink not what’s there. I eat better. I sleep sounder. I don’t care much for pleasing people now than before, this shortens my decision making process significantly. It also makes me feel lighter, less baggaged. I read more, voraciously, hungrily. I read slower now, than ever before, because words mean more to me. I cling on them, like a jealous lover.

I’m slightly more at ease with my art now than I was at 30. I write shorter sentences. I’m in better shape physically than when I was 29. I read people better. I have more hair on my chin than I ever had. I give more now than I did at 30. Even though I think less about love and being loved, I still fear being alone. Of being abandoned. I crave human presence, even if it’s just the sound of a human being breathing.

I don’t fear death; I just fear dying alone, without someone holding my right hand as life ebbs from me. In fact, I’m less afraid of death now as compared to say, five months ago, this is because I’m convinced that someone will be there to receive me in the land of the dead; my mom.

Generally, I smile less now, thanks to a second premolar.

 

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114 Comments
  1. @ 35?welcome to the best years of your life.

    Ps,on the Tattoo
    believe me your Mrs isn’t done.
    Don’t close your eyes when you go to sleep.
    Always have one open or you end up with your face tattooed on a pan.

    Personal experience by the way.

    1. The thought of your face on a pan made me laugh. I don’t know why. Maybe because I have contemplated tattooing someone’s face on a pan myself.
      I will stop now before I incriminate myself further.

  2. Hey good read. Very moving and real… am 28 and i feel like i can relate. Oh and youve given me motivation to have my tongue pierced which is something that Ive been meaning to do for years now… all because I couldnt care less about people’s opinions and I dont have to really worry about my work place.

    Great to read from you!

  3. Two lines I have absolutely loved-“It’s the kind of rubbish song that Nairobi’s “socialites” adopt as their own unique anthem that sets them apart from the rest of the peasants” and “I don’t think love makes the world go round, I think its compassion”. Well, welcome back Biko.

  4. I don’t care much for pleasing people now than before, this shortens my decision making process significantly. It also makes me feel lighter, less baggaged. …If for no other reason, this makes me want to get to 35….

  5. A word to the wise; perhaps a second name tattooed on your arm may delay the inevitable. Might even earn a brownie point or two towards a future “get-out-of-jail” card.

    Then again if you take my advice and this blows up in your face.. well put in disclaimer and usual caveat emptors, etcetera etcetera right here.

  6. I would have expected at 35 you should also be doing things like buying a home that Tamms can inherit later, growing that business you started at 29, widening your social circle, seeing the world on your terms. Not getting a tatoo.

    While I congratulate you for achieving 35 I do feel that you need to temper you celebration so as not just to look back but also to look forward. What have you in mind for the next 35 years?

    Swag is for boys; class is for men.

    1. That’s what you want by 35.

      Don’t assume and don’t project. We don’t all take the same cookie-cutter approach to life.

      Peace.

    2. I think at 35, its more important to know / understand yourself, than it is to have material things. That rush to buy more / have more cash can easily have you at age 50 asking yourself what it was all about..

    3. how do you even know that he hasn’t done all that?Let the man enjoy 35 in his style…and stop taking life so seriously, you need a jog! 🙂

    4. Well, your expectations of Biko aren’t necessarily what he is living, are they?

      Let the man/writer enjoy his 35th birthday the way he wants to 🙂

    5. Mwas,
      I think yu missed the point … by at least 35 miles.
      This was a philosophical piece by Biko, not a philistinic dedication to Mamon. When my own mom died half-a-lifetyme ago, I had to deal with that crater-sized hole in my soul, not the property left behind . . .
      This piece is as sad and beautiful n poetic as any on the subject.
      Biko, I’ll still tattoo that russian eagle over my heart, and not the name of my lil dot’e, Checheslavia . . .
      But I’ll never stop looking for your arm, hombre 😉

    6. Mwangi,

      I think if you live your life purchasing property that your kids will inherit, yours must be a very empty existence. See, the purpose of our being is to fulfil our own destinies, not to fulfil our children’s [and vice versa because there are those chaps who try to force their missed desires onto their kids]. You live for you, their turn shall come, but do not deny them the opportunity of choice. In short, give your kid the best education [formal and hard knock] that you can afford to and hope that they’ll only miss your smile and your presence but not your economic support. Let them learn to earn!!! That’s the greatest inheritance you can ever leave behind.

      I’m 31 going on 32 come feb and I’m a bit scared of even acknowledging the fact that I’m no longer twenty something…but I’ll live

  7. HE’S BACK people HE’S BACK!!!!! Can’t seem to wipe this big smile from my face:)Happy birthday Jackson! Captivating writing as usual:)

  8. “…assuming yours shower. I hear some don’t. God bless you strong fellows” <—- This is the most hateful, misogynistic remark anyone has made today

    Soulful piece, thank you.

  9. Welcome back Biko, I was here earlier checking ‘just in case’ you had decided to write. 🙂 I’m glad I did.

    35… the thirties alone are a scary lot… Happy birthday.

    PS: You can sleep. She will probably strike when you’re fully awake and expecting it, just so you know what hit you.

    I like Gangnam Style though, and don’t like that you called it rubbish. :-p

  10. here is how this happened for me….i cracked up. Completely. The Tatoo…that was hilarious…that there lady of the house has it rough….two babies if you ask me!!

    Then there was this twist. This before and after charade….what matters and what doesn’t…I felt this…too much…

    SO i guess i can say…first part was read with a smile and the second one holding my chin. Touche Biko…happy belated!

  11. Happy Birthday its a wonderful stock take =here I thought mid thirties was my midlife crisis I loved the second bit -cried a bit at that part of being alone -I thought on that line some weeks ago . Warm writing that reveals the psyche of the man – a great observer of nuance and time

  12. Sir, you don’t really know what you do for us younger men out here (i am 26). Rarely do we come across words of manhood spoken so genuinely.

    May God bless you, and with that name on your arm you’ll certainly not die alone I pray.

  13. Happy B.Day Biko….have you managed to go to Senegal?
    Its inspiring that you knew you wanted to visit there…i have no clue where i want to do when i click 35!!!
    But then i have 10years to Figure it out…
    But seriously i hope you go there and of course write about it!!!

  14. now I want to be 35 all of a sudden. you surely know how to make good outlook of your present situation. n yah keep that sweat coming.

  15. When i read this i said,i cant wait to get where you are,i mean im 22,im the opposite of 35,i care too much, i hurt easily, i worry abt displeasing people and all,n i JUST cant wait to be thate fae!

  16. This “….My expectations of people are much lower now than it ever was at the beginning of this decade. Which means I value friendships less now than I have ever. Now I question less why people do certain things, I simply stop acknowledging them…….” I found to be most important phrase and Happy Birthday!

  17. Biko, no you did not having me laugh so loud just minutes to midnight!Awesome piece and happy 35!

    And we can all bet she ain’t over with you yet, but we shall search and search furiously shoud you go missing.. Tutatembea huko Kendubay 🙂

    Fantastic !

  18. hahaha “There is a mobile phone in the bedroom that has
    this ugly sms-tone of a bulimic song that I was
    later to learn is a Korean hit called Gangnam Style”
    With this i have laughed a good, precisely and true i thought i was the only one who didn’t like the song that makes it two of us. Anyway happy bornday Biko! Though i may be ten years younger and recently out of college i see the needful of planning before i reach 35. Thanks for the insight

  19. this right here explains me in the last 9mths,i’m just 30.

    ‘…My expectations of
    people are much lower now
    than it ever was at the
    beginning of this decade. Which means I value friendships less now than I have ever. Now I question less why people do certain things, I simply stop acknowledging them…’

  20. Oh how i had missed my monday morning lessons in life. I feel re-born. Great read as always Abiki. Happy belated and I SHALL REMAIN STANDING!

  21. 35, half way to 70, which is the ‘lucky’ full adult life:
    a) do the prostate exam;
    b) take out life insurance for the baby; and
    c) dread the Big 40.

  22. Hi Biko,

    Happy Birthday!

    I just started reading your blog and it is awesome. You get so many comments and I wonder if you ever will reach down here to read mine.

  23. happy birthday dear:-) and yes, Newton is the best of the best! Congrats on ur first tat… I got my first 2yrs ago… most nerve racking decision I ever made but I don’t regret it at all. Enjoy ur life now as it is, I love that you have learnt to let go of a lot of ‘baggage’… it is something I am still struggling with to this day. But it will happen in due time I guess. Once again, great read, have a great 35th year

  24. Reflective & Educative. I’m less forgiving now than before because I generally care less for the things that used to get my knickers in a twist before. This attracts happiness because when you care less you avoid heart diseases and ulcers.

  25. “I think demonic is when you wear red skinny jeans and curly kit your hair. Then carry a violin. Demonic to the end.” Preach on preacher…..

  26. thanks man, we salute you. this was indeed a surprise after what expired last week. we were expecting another post after two weeks.

  27. every time i read your pieces they inspire me, make me laugh and want to read more and more! one of the best writers i know in Kenya that can keep one glued to some awesome piece of work like yours! big up! there should be a theme song on this comment…you know…okay i will show myself out! lol keep up!

  28. Biko, nice read!
    Welcome to mid thirties where renewing self begins. I bet your are not through with tatoos. Grace yourself after your second born!

    Happy birthday and welcome back

  29. “…I was later to learn is a Korean hit called Gangnam Style. It’s the kind of rubbish song that Nairobi’s “socialites” adopt as their own unique anthem that sets them apart from the rest of the peasants.” Thats what i think of most techno songs anyway…

    Awesome piece though…after reading it i felt like such an amateur since i penned my life lessons at 25 last week! http://njambiemungai.com/wordpress/25-life-lessons-learnt-in-25-years/
    Hopefully by the time i get to 35, my writing will have matured as well. Keep it up!

  30. Now this was a smooth ride. Keep it up, old man.

    Also, does anyone else find it suspicious that the day BikoZ gets angsty and semi-retires is the same day that noelle dreaming pulls down her blog. This can only mean 1 thing, Biko is a cross-dressing conflicted degenerate with a split-personality disorder. Somehow, those personalities met each other and the dreaming personality was killed off. But I got nothing but love for weirdos so…..keep on man. Sanity is a cruel illusion.

  31. hehehe.. Preempting the show down with the misus? This is a clever move.

    Thank your God, you’ve lived a life and then some. The travel and a family. Life can get real lonely by yourself.

  32. After a fully lived 26 years, i finally made up my mind to join the convent – a decision that shocked many but which had always been hovering in the background. A year to my first vows, i decided to get a tattoo to remind myself of who i am in the midst of a lifestyle which seems to emphasive collectivity of individuality. I have never regretted my decision.
    Happy 35th’ i’ll be joining you really soon.

    1. Did you really? And 8, 9 years down the line, what does it feel like to live in a convent? (groupie alert) Needless to say my curiousity is piqued! I am quite intrigued by people who make a 180 degree turn of their lives! Take a lot of guts! All the best

  33. Happy 35 Biko!!. We on the ‘other side’ call it “Golden 35”

    And i see that you did not bother to respond ( i guess it is part of being 35-not bothering) to that guy who is lecturing you about what you should and should not be doing at 35,but your soldiers did and i was expecting more responses on it hehehehhe

    I enjoyed the read.

    Blessings.

  34. Reading through this piece has made me realize that all the fears that I’m going through at the moment -the insane urge to make it all costs, fear of whether i’ll make a good father (got a rugrat on the way), wondering if i’ll be able to provide the best for my young family (rugrat and young wife) mean nothing. That all that matters is being alive and of good health. Thank you Biko.

  35. Biko,

    Aki your old Heheheh happy belated.Just like everyone else this was a surprise and the execution perfecto..there is something they say about 35???well i’ll tell when i remember.

  36. I enjoyed this piece immensely. Thought-provoking yet humourous. Great life lessons to take from it too. I think the missus should relax though coz at least you didn’t take out Tamms’ college funds and spend it on a motorcycle like others do at that age 🙂

    “…I read more, voraciously, hungrily. I read slower now, than ever before, because words mean more to me.” <== I liked this part best.

    "…a cylindrical tube lodged into his earlobes like a pseudo-Maasai" <== I love your descriptions; they always make the imagery come alive.

    "I don’t care much for pleasing people now…" <== Good for you Biko. I want to be able to say that someday too and actually mean it.

    "…a Korean hit called Gangnam Style. It’s the kind of //rubbish//…" <== Enough said.

    Welcome back and happy belated birthday.

  37. So how was the Congo forest Biko?brought back any monkey meat? lol
    I guess the one Gathoni down at the barber shop suggested that tattoo when you went to shave the forest hairs,:p
    Good to have you back and Happy belated birthday Biko

  38. Aww! Happy Belated birthday! and a tattoo is cool…its what you wanted and you have got it!

    Sooooooo nice to have you back! pls dont go….pls stay…

    God Bless!

  39. Had a sneaky feeling you would put something so I passed by and I was not disappointed.

    Great read…. am not sure about the tatoo hope you ink all your kids names as they come…

  40. You’re back, already? We was thinking of doing something for you, *hurriedly crumples the detailed manuscript of a ‘Welcome back’ plan and nervously flings it in the trash can*, but now that your here, we may as well get back with the program : )

    Welcome back.
    While you were away, we came back to High School severally and prayed to the writer gods that you had posted before the final week of the month. Seems the libation (read Whiskey) worked in our favour.

    Well, I’ll take this as a bonus piece. Second half of it reads like a page straight out of a diary. It sought of sits next to you silently, folds its legs beneath it and rests its head on your shoulder – you are aware of its presence, yes, but its subtle, silent. Undertones of being subdued. Every so often it sighs defeatedly; the will-power to walk through the rain over-bearing.
    My suggestion? Ink this, on plain paper. Neatly fold it in half and leave it in the shoe-box marked ‘(Auto) biography scrap’ it shall make a good read for biko+10.

    Happy 35th and happy birthday. You being appended to the list sortta confirms that we October babies are A*W*E*S*O*M*E
    o/ o/ o/ o/

    See you Monday.

  41. “Which means I value friendships less now than I have ever.” >>
    You are right, this is a flaw. But then again, isn’t it said, that to have a friend, you need to be a friend? That ‘give and receive’ sort of thing.

    “The greatest virtue has stopped being love; I don’t think love makes the world go round, I think its compassion.” >>
    However, this is so true.

  42. Happy belated birthday…
    I’ve been a ghost reader for a while and your posts are the most consistent voluntary reading I know….just hoping ‘past 35’ doesn’t take anything away

  43. Ati your bladder was filling everytime you heard Gangnam Style… HAHAAAAAAAAAA. Dude, nice going at 35 and nice that Newton did your first tattoo… Live long and strong bro… 🙂

  44. U described my life but now 10years younger…at 25years…I also got my first Tattoo today(October 21)……a mark for transition

    The me at 25 years “I don’t care
    much for pleasing people now than
    before, this shortens my decision
    making process significantly. It also
    makes me feel lighter, less baggaged.”
    Happy belated 35th Birthday…

  45. … Days have since passed and she hasn’t said anything! You are thinking exactly what I’m thinking; this is not over! Something’s a foot.

  46. May you grow older, old enough to lose your teeth and walk with a stoop…old enough to see Tamms’ kids and tell them stories of how you once visited the Congo forest, grew hair on your armpits, and then later found you sanity when you came back.
    Unakua babu!
    http://my.opera.com/Magunga/blog/

  47. Enjoy year number 35 Biko!!

    May God bless you with many more years and renewed energy to keep writing. It is always such a delight when I load the page and there is a new post!

    p.s I also got mine from Newton, really cool guy he is.

  48. Happy belated birthday Biko. This part is so true “I value friendships less now than I have ever” I am like that nowadays heading to 35 and its what I feel now without any regrets….

    Nice read>

  49. One day, I will be a better writer than you. (Only if I summon the guts of letting someone else other than the voice in my head read them)
    Lovely piece Sir. Absolutely lovely.

    “And if I ever disappear, Gang, if you never hear from me and she says I went back to Kendu Bay to keep company my grieving father, please don’t believe that hogwash. Don’t stop looking for me, or my arm. Don’t give up on me.”

  50. I enjoy your pieces, sometimes. By that I mean I think you write beautifully even though I’m not cool with some of your ideologies (i.e you happily embrace cynicism. Cynics vex my spirit).

    That said, This is one my fave pieces. Profound, honest yet sad…you make an interesting study, Biko. You seem to have a thirst for knowledge and yet…there’s that cynicism thing 🙂

    Here’s to your good health, cheers.

  51. wooow,fascinating read.’I let go easily now, of people, of emotions, which means it’s much harder to hurt me now than it was at, say, 28. I might anger faster now, but I cool off faster too.’
    this my highlight,,am 23 n can already relate to this.
    Long live Biko,thts all i wish fo you!

  52. Just going through your blog realising that I have been reading it for almost more than three years now! Time flies, for three years i have been refreshing your page, getting inspired, reflective, amazed and sometimes guilty that I am not writing myself. Your writting has changed but has succeeded in being grounded. In telling the stories we could tell with our eyes cold. Biko, did you ever go to Senegal. My best post is ‘Starting from the End’ and therein you wrote “Once in a while I want to go down to Zanzibar and scuba-dive. And I want
    to go back to Senegal (because I would have gone when I’m 35yrs)” Well did you?

  53. “Losing your mother leaves a massive ugly crater in your heart, one that
    when it rains – like it was when I was pounding the lam that morning –
    fills it with such bitterness and horrid loneliness.”

    true that, bro, very true! i know the post is from 2 years back, let’s just say i was doing my usual thing of taking a walk thru blogs i like, and i saw it, and i read it, and i liked it!

  54. I am turning 35 this Friday. I am glad I went back to your old posts saw this. totally loved it!….the thing about getting a call from your daughter’s school its so true.