I was born in a hospital, in Chicago, on this day, 49 years ago. I don't remember, but have been told that I was 'pre-mature,' and that I spent some time in an incubator before I could face the world on my own. I was lucky to be born into tight-knit family. I started as the happy go lucky little, fair-haired, boy, (Sunny Jimmy, indeed) and I've been that same boy ever since.
It's been a long, strange trip...and...a blink of an eye. They say that your cells regenerate, and that every seven years your body is made of these regenerated cells...so this would be the seventh version of myself.
I'm 'in a good place,' no major regrets, no broken bones, a few scars, but I believe, most, if not all, of my wounds have been self-inflicted. I have been in the process of 'becoming.' I have been a little slow on the uptake, unsure, not realizing just how much I could do, not understanding that I had to decide how the world is made; that the world would not tell me it's secrets, I would have to discover them on my own. Not an efficient way to live, but it has been good enough.
I'm still premature...probably always will be, just hoping I'm a little wiser down the line.