Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. -George Santayana
There’s nothing like a milestone birthday to make one philosophical. I know this quote is somewhat old and slightly overused, but it’s been percolating all night in my mind as the clock inexorably heads towards forty. Typically, it an aphorism used to describe huge, world-altering events that seem to keep happening despite the supposed ability of humans to learn. Today, I decided to see how well it holds up on a personal level.
Ten years ago, on my 30th birthday, these were my three posts on my Facebook wall:
“Jerry Ballas is working”
“Jerry Ballas is off!”
“Jerry Ballas is off to the comic book store for some birthday fun!”
These posts were then followed by 14 friends posting various incarnations of “Happy Birthday”. The final entry of the day was by Erin (then Stevens) Sherman, saying “wait, i didn't realize today was 30!!! happy birthday, had a blast tonight, will regret it on call tomorrow. We love you!”
By itself, with no pictures, or selfies, or check-ins, it’s hard to put into context. Mind you, this was Facebook of 2008. Most phones still flipped and GPS was a dream. It took me a minute, but then I remembered, I made a photo album about this night.
And sure enough, there it was, appropriately named “30 Down. Who knows how many to go” with the trite tagline “Turning 30 sucks. But when you can spend it with those you love, laughing and drinking as much as possible, it's not too bad.”
And there I was, wearing a ridiculous sombrero, adorned with balloons that would eventually get popped one-by-one by a singing waiter in a Mexican restaurant I can’t remember the name of somewhere in Long Island. I’m the largest I’d ever been to that point in my life, though not yet the largest I’d ever be. That was still a year (and two trips to the ER) or so away.
Surrounding me were my always-reliable and random group of friends, colleagues and kindred souls that made that part of my life more than bearable; they make it truly, deeply and unmistakably fun.
By my side, as she had been for 7 years to that point, is the center of my universe and my true north, looking EXACTLY the same as the day we met, which is the same as she looks now. Six months before this picture, I had asked her to marry me. Five months after this picture, we were married. A little over a month after that, she’d be off to Grenada for medical school, and our first major foray into long-distance love would begin. It’s photos like this that make me wonder what she has managed to see in me all these years. Hell, I’m sure it’s photos like this that make others think the same thing.
That’s not meant to be self-deprecating. It’s self-affirmation. I take nothing for granted, because if I could find love like hers and still keep it while wearing that ridiculous sombrero, then I must be doing something else right. A million other things right, most likely.
To that point in my life, I had accomplished more than I ever could have imagined even when I was 20. Now, as the clock strikes 40, I look at the face in that picture staring back at me and realize how little I knew the next decade would bring. My thirties had the lowest lows and highest highs. Stumbling out of residency to becoming Board Certified. The death of my father, the birth of my daughter. The loneliness of long distance marriage to buying our first home together. The largest and sickest, lightest and healthiest I’ve ever been. Laying on a gurney convinced I was having a heart attack, to finishing my 8th half-marathon.
From east coast, to west coast, to gulf coast, and back. All the while moving onward and upward, personally and professionally, surrounded by friends, family, colleagues and mentors that never let me fail.
Maybe remembering the past AND repeating parts of it wouldn’t be so bad. So far, not being able to fathom what the next decade would bring has worked out pretty well. That deer-in-headlights 20-year-old found the love of his life. That jaded 30 year-old became a father. If this pattern holds, things can only go up for this slightly balder and somewhat bigger 40-year-old. Bring it, future me. Let’s get this birthday started!
But first, work.
Then, I’m off.
Then to the comic book store for some birthday fun.
And finally tonight, I hope to see as many of you kindred souls as possible at Casa Guadalajara in Old Town for some great Mexican food, laughter and as much drinking as possible!
-JB
History doesn't repeat itself but it often rhymes.
- Mark Twain