80

Since last week was a number, I figured I might as well keep it going.

80 refers to my uncle's recent birthday. We went up to his place in New Hampshire to celebrate. As I've mentioned many times, my uncle is the closest thing I have to a parent, having lost my mom when I was 13 and my dad when my mom was 7 months pregnant with me. He took me and my brother in because it was the right thing to do. If you were to ask him, he'd downplay it. But he in fact saved us from an orphanage and/or foster care. I thanked him in those early years by being an angry adolescent, testing his patience and probably everyone else around me. In addition, as a closeted (to me and my brother) gay man, he also had to go through hiding his orientation. Which was, strangely, the right thing to do at the time, considering how angry and homophobic I was.
Throughout the weekend, which went very very well, I had all kinds of inner dialogues and I learned a few things as well.
1: I have a self-destructive tendency to be responsible for everyone's happiness. Not a healthy thing, that. Especially given the mix of personalities, which consisted of my uncle, my girlfriend, my brother, who came all the way in from California, and my son, who came up from Washington DC. Keep in mind that I was the hub of the wheel, in the sense that, other than me, no one had spent significant time with anyone else. Was I nervous about how everyone would get along? Um...yeah. Not to worry. Everyone felt amazingly at home. There was enough laughter in one weekend to last for a year. Yet, my anxiety was through the roof, and remained that way until we left.
2: My son is funny enough to literally do stand up comedy, although his humor is more observational and might be better suited to writing. But he had us in stitches the whole weekend, just commenting on things.
3: My girlfriend (often referred to as GWCTRA, girlfriend who chooses to remain anonymous), who I already knew was a keeper, was amazing. It's as if she knew everyone for 20 years or more. That's how relaxed and comfortable she was. I am indeed a lucky man.
4: My brother, who I've had an up and down relationship with over the years, also was right at home. He was also funny, as well as gracious, erudite, and outspoken. Oh, and he picked up the tab for breakfast. Thanks, ZM! (My brother, real name Jeff, is aka "The ZenMaster")
5: My uncle may be 80 but has the mind of someone half his age. To call him "sharp" would actually be condescending, because he can hold his own intellectually and mentally with anyone. Oh, and he picked up the tab for dinner. Thanks, Uncle Ken!
6: Try as I might, my uncle and brother will never "get" my musical wiring. I wrote a song for my uncle's birthday which was well received, it seemed. But my expectations were probably unrealistically high. It's as if I thought I wrote another Somewhere Over The Rainbow. For them, music is "nice" and probably just "something I do". But it's never been understood. Music has been a friend and enemy to me over the years. Mostly the former. But I've also let it take me down financial and geographic roads that were not healthy. I learned that to try to force them to "get" me in this area is wasted energy. My energy is better spent loving and appreciating them for who they are rather than to resent this part of them. I'm not totally at peace with it but I'm working on it.

Why, then, the anxiety? Good question. Wish I had a good answer. I do know that on the last day, I couldn't wait to leave. It wasn't because of the company, or anything anyone did or said. It was just that I felt the room closing in on me. I felt naked and exposed, although no one in the room was there to judge me. There's ancient wisdom that says we fear success more than failure, as failure is familiar, while success is not. Maybe that has something to do with it.
This is something to discuss in therapy. But I do know that if I can make it to 80 and be half as sharp as my uncle, it'll be OK. My vision of me at 80:
1: To have GWCTRA with me, laughing, singing, kissing, and challenging me.
2: To have a continued strong relationship with my son. And that he'll be doing something he finds rewarding.  And to keep our unique father-son dialogue going. Which is another way of saying; to laugh with him at stuff that no one else would "get" or find funny. And to be his #1 ear for things he probably wouldn't talk about with anyone else. 
3: To have my brother, who'll be 83 at the time, still talking music, baseball, politics, and family stuff.
4: My uncle? Well, he'll be physically gone. But I believe people really do live on through others, when they pass on their kindness, compassion, humor, and grace. In that sense, he'll still be here.

Hey, maybe I should have retitled this "4". Because these are the 4 people that matter the most to me.

Thanks for reading.