so this is 50

Well… here we are.

Fifty.

The big 5-0. Half a century. Old enough to know better, young enough to still have a group text that includes memes and knee pain remedies.

If I’m honest, my 40s were not a slow glide into midlife they were more like driving through a construction zone with no GPS. A little bumpy. A lot noisy. And occasionally, I ended up somewhere I didn’t plan to be.

Let’s take a stroll, shall we?

I lost both my mom and my mother-in-law, two women who were strong, steady forces in my life. Not always warm, but always present. They shaped more of me than I realized, and their absence echoes.

We lost little Jeremiah. A loss that still hums in quiet spaces.

A group of ill-willed folks staged a coup and took over the nonprofit my mom built and led for 30+ years. That changed everything. Legacy isn’t always taken sometimes it’s rerouted.

All three of our kids got married (which is wild) and I became Big Dad to five grandkids who now rule the house and most of my heart.

The family had one of those dramatic arcs: years of division healed… only to circle back to new fractures. Growth, grief, rinse, repeat.

Some friendships ended quietly and not-so-quietly. COVID shut the world down. We were crypto-rich (for a second), then just… regular.

And yet, in all the chaos and change, I’ve learned a few things things I hold onto like handlebars on a long ride:

1. Coffee Is Sacred

A crane fly once belly-flopped into my mug. I drank it anyway. Life’s not always clean, but it’s still worth sipping.

2. Keep Pedaling

I rode 73 miles without training. It hurt. Bad. But I finished. Because sometimes you don’t need a plan you just need stubborn legs and a playlist.

3. Rest Is Obedience

I used to see rest as a reward. Now I see it as survival. It’s not lazy, it’s holy. And necessary. Especially if you plan to keep showing up for the people you love.

4. Nikki Is My Home Base

I’m madly in love with her. Still. Always. She’s more than my wife, she’s my breath, my calm, my favorite laugh. If I have anything figured out, it’s that she’s the best part of the journey.

5. Pain Can Soften You - Let It

Pain will either make you bitter or make you real. I’ve learned to let it do the latter. Life’s too short to walk around armored. I’d rather walk around open.

So what’s next?

I don’t know. Hopefully less drama, more naps. More bikes. More grace. More weekends with coffee. More time being present instead of proving something.

Here’s to the next ten. I don’t need them to be easy—I just want them to be meaningful.

Preferably with good coffee.