Rocky has been coming home lately singing the lyrics to Tim McGraw’s My Next Thirty Years. Tim may be able to embrace the levity of a new decade, but Rocky is certainly having trouble. He seems stuck on the fact that it is the ending of an era, and not the turning of a new page.
Perhaps it is because I have eight months before I have to face this new fate. But I don’t see what the big deal is. Taking stock of our immediate circumstances may be less than ideal. The leaky faucets, the unpacked boxes, the temporary titles all leave one wondering if we’re traveling down a path to be proud of. But Rocky has accomplished so much this decade. He graduated college and law school. He was named Chief Justice. He clerked for a judge. He bought his first house. He met the love of his life, got married and had a beautiful son. All of that, in addition to being the best son, husband and friend in the world. That’s a lot to be proud of in just thirty years.
As he stares down the line to forty (gulp), I can’t help but get excited about what the next decade has in store for him. A taste of career success. Maybe more babies. A new house to raise our family. Another European vacation or two. Dinner parties with friends. Time with our parents. Love and happiness. Happy birthday Rock. Mwah!