I don't do life-changing events

 There was a dear couple from my home church who frequently came to tears when talking about their children. As kids, we would smile whenever they’d stand up to share, knowing the water works could come at any moment. 

Some people are more emotional than others, especially when talking about their family. Other people, like my wife and daughter, get sentimental about things. I’ve learned this the hard way when I accidentally remove a cherished item from the house. How could I have known?? 

I don’t usually get sentimental about things, but I do get possessive (two very different feelings). And I typically don’t get emotional when discussing personal life events, nor very excited about sharing them.  

So I was a little taken aback when my dad texted us with a request. This Christmas he wants his kids and grandkids to talk about a "highlight" that happened in our lives this past year. An event that might even be life changing, he added ominously. 

This is a hard ask for someone who struggles with attaching meaning to life events. Most things that happen to me are purposefully pedestrian. 

For example, this year I got my own office at work after a decade of working in a cubicle. Sure, I can now close the door to change in and out of my biking gear (and I’m not talking about spandex shorts here), but can I honestly say it fundamentally altered my life?

This summer I also got a double-dose of Pfizer vaccine, which was about as life changing as it can get during a pandemic. More than anything, it was life-enhancing (as in keeping me alive), but did it make me feel any different? Nope – no side effects, good or bad. 

What else? Well, I wrote a story this year. A loooong story. I had intended to write it for my daughter but so far she’s only gotten to page 30. In fact, only one person has read the entire ghastly thing through... and that person is me. But at least I finished it – a great feat for someone who has troubles completing writing projects. Was it life-changing? Not until I get my million-dollar book deal (ha!). 

To be perfectly honest, I’ve only experienced a few life-changing events over 44 years of living. Some of them I cherish, like our wedding day or the night our daughter was born. Some other things, not so much. At this point in my life, I’m not even sure I’d want a “life-changing” event. What if the change is for the worse? I’m pretty content when changes are gradual; slow and steady, like hiking up a medium-sized hill.  

My dad has obviously become a little more sentimental in his later years, which is understandable. Perhaps when I’m in my seventies, I’ll be full of sentiment, too. 

I know somewhere, deep down inside, I have it in me. Just the other day, I nearly came to tears when Pachelbel’s Canon started playing on our stereo. I have no idea what brought it on. Perhaps it evoked in my mind an image of my daughter in a wedding dress – a thought I refuse to conceive of voluntarily. So there, I got emotional. 

On such occasions I can be brought to the verge of tears, but rarely do I let them flow. Because if I do, I tend to bawl like a baby, which gets a little tricky in social situations. For some reason people get uncomfortable when you release years of repressed emotion in one prolonged wail. 

So I keep it all inside. 

Trust me, it’s better that way.