Quarter-Life Crisis

Last Tuesday, my dad was kind enough to remind me that in a couple months, I will be closer to 30 years old than to 20. It’s not like I needed to be reminded of that, but his words did give me cause to reflect on a few things (surprise, surprise).

The next day, I met up with a dear friend who I’d not seen in a while. During our conversation, I confessed some bitterness to her. I’m going to be 25 soon, and I feel like I didn’t get 24 at all. I wasted most of the first six months on some bullshit I won’t go into here, then cancer stole the rest. I told my friend I’m going to end up being 25 for a year-and-a-half because 24 ended back in November, when I was diagnosed.

Once I was through with the brief pity-party, my friend looked at me with scolding eyes and asked rhetorically, “You really think this past year was a waste?” I could already see where this was headed, but I decided to pout a little longer, shrugging my shoulders and taking a sip from my glass of water. She continued, “Would you be able to maintain a steady relationship right now without the stuff you went through last year? And how much stronger are you because of what you’ve gone through with cancer? How much more do you appreciate your life and your family?” She paused for a second before saying, “I don’t know. I think 24 could be the most important year of your life so far.”

This is why you have good friends.

A couple days later I was in downtown Chicago, walking to the Chicago Red Line stop from my parents’ condo near the lake. I passed through the Water Tower square on Michigan Avenue and I started thinking about how much I’ve loved this town. I’ve lived here for over four years now and I often take for granted how comfortable I’ve become. I started looking up at all the buildings around me, remembering how it felt to look at them when I didn’t know the city as well, and going through some of the most important memories I’ve made in my time here.

When the temperature isn’t down to Arctic extremes, it’s hard to find a more beautiful city anywhere.

Once I thought about it long enough, though, I remembered how I was never going to stay here forever. Once I thought about that, I thought about my family and what my friend said to me the day before. I’ve been so lucky to have received the kind of support and care my parents and stepparents have provided while I’ve been sick, but the truth is this whole ordeal has made me miss the rest of my family even more. It’s nice to receive phone calls, emails, and text messages from everyone, but it’s not enough.

Then I went back to what my dad said earlier in the week. I am going to be 25. I am going to be closer to 30 than I am to 20. I’m not really ready to grow up, but, at the very least, it might be time to get my life started.

It might be time to go home.