Last Day at 47

My 48th birthday was Wednesday, June 24.

On Tuesday, as I considered the final day of my year at 47, I sat at the car dealership where we bought our Toyota Sienna minivan 15 years ago, nearing 200,000 miles, and all the memories in the world as the only car that has remained with us so long.

The technician came in, after 2 hours of my wondering, and gave me the diagnosis: he could fix $1,978 worth of issues. I found that number particularly ironic, as that was the year of my birth.

As I declined most of what he suggested, since it was more “you should do this eventually” than an emergency issue just yet, he agreed that what is being recommended is actually quite far from being broken.

I often feel like this car.

I have some miles on me at this point.

40’s are interesting. I’ve heard 50’s are really interesting!

As I cross the threshold to 48 there are some people reading this thinking, “Oh man, you just wait!” or “My goodness, to be 48 again!”

Those reading this who are younger may think, “It can’t be that dramatic”.

Yes, it actually is.

I spend a good chunk of my day now maintaining what used to require little to no maintenance.

More visits to the pros who can tell me what’s going on with my health and body, what I should probably do to fix an issue, and usually I have plenty to tell them needs to be worked on.

With my body, I NEVER wait until the belt breaks or air filter gets clogged. I do all I can to prevent any issues, and I am grateful to know about it beforehand, and know what to do.

Bloodwork done every 3 months, supplements beyond normal consumption, I only still just take one prescription, which is finasteride/propecia, that has saved my hair from falling out since I started taking it daily 20 years ago. Everything else is natural supplementation.

I’ll go to the surgeon when something snaps, and it has, in fact I’m now coming on 4 years since the biggest injury of my life (patellar tendon tear), and was very grateful for all involved to help me recover from that mess.

It brought great perspective to my life, to go through such a debilitating injury, I have never been the same in terms of how I respond to those suffering in pain, for which I am grateful.

I feel like a car that has 200,000 miles on it, or maybe even 2 million is more like it, and yet you can’t tell the old car to slow down. It seems to think it can still race off the line at a green light, blast up a 15% grade on the mountain highway, or handle carrying the entire family AND our luggage to the airport – the only car big enough to do so.

I love that old car. I don’t know if, how, or when we’ll ever get rid of it.

Every time I pull into the dealership they offer me something for my 2011 Sienna. I say no way. They can’t believe how good of shape it’s in. That’s because we take extra good care of it and never let any problems creep up.

I hope to continue to be like this car. Old reliable. Keep my promises. Do my best to appear like I’m still able to sprint, able to carry safely and comfortably the whole family.

Comparing yourself to a minivan means you’ve accepted your place in this world, likely hit middle age and haven’t had to go out and get the Lambo with your crisis, and instead are truly comfortable with yourself.

We own a few other vehicles, and they’re all wonderful in their own right, but this is the one we all prefer for long distance travel, ease of use at the store, hauling most things, and the only car in the family with enough seats for all of us to go at once.

I felt an inkling recently that we should consider selling it.

And then I thought – we took Redford to the airport as a whole family in this car, talked and laughed and cried the whole way there – and then he flew away to Argentina for 2 years on a mission.

What about when he returns? If we don’t have this car, then which one holds all of us to drive home together?

What about when all the kids are back home? If we want to go on a roadtrip? If we just want to go somewhere all together?

There are important reasons to hang on to old things, and there are ways in which we appreciate the Signature Moves of something/someone so much we just can’t let go.

Some habits I’ll let go for 48, and others I’ll adopt. I’m already feeling the positive effects of a few simple decisions, such as timing of workouts, amount of food I should be eating, and making sleep the top priority of my night after 47 years of not allowing it.

The Sienna minivan keeps its promises. I try to as well. I’m curious how much more we have left in the tank. Until then, we are pedal to the metal.

Here’s to 48.