Being 25: A Look back on a Quarter Century

Year one was lots of fun

But nothin' lasts forever in my dreams

And two, I followed you

Because you knew the way or so it seemed

And three, I still believed

That we would be becoming destiny

And four, I wanted more

But you were movin' on to better things

At 25 and still alive

Much longer than expected for a man

At 25, all hope has died

And the glass of my intentions turns to sand

And shatters in my hand

Croon the words of The Pretty Reckless as I look back on my 25th year. After one month of being 26, I often reflect on my life, and how such a song brilliantly captured life for me back then.

Long story short, that summer I was planning to have a technology cleanse, like I did at summer camp 11 years beforehand. After all, my life had improved greatly the following year, and I really wanted it to have the same impact here. Unfortunately, I was living at a place that, quite frankly, treated me, and its other residents, like children and did not provide much room for personal growth. I was 25, but felt like a child. I would often spend my time watching and reading about cartoons I hadn’t watched in a long time, like “Powerpuff Girls” and “VeggieTales.” Sure, they’re both brilliantly written, and 2000s nostalgia is hardly uncommon among 20-somethings, but really, I should’ve spent my summer doing something more productive. I was trapped in a cycle of laziness and immaturity, doing little more than partying and cartoon-watching. I figured that, whatever happened, I would be fine in the following year.

Yeah, so much for that.

I was all set to work at a school all the way out in Watchung, however, they had very strict regulations for COVID. If someone so much as “sneezed,” they were immediately taken out and forced to take a test. When the tests didn’t work, Dad figured that they didn’t want me anyway, because I wasn’t following the proper procedures, what with nervously biting on my mask. I got a job as a school paraprofessional, which was okay, but more often than not, they didn’t even need me!

As if that wasn’t enough, I was eventually kicked out of my old place for screaming and hitting the side of my face (long story.) I felt like I hit rock bottom- first I lose my job, and now my community! This often led to fights with my poor mother, who was suffering from Stage 4 cancer at the time, and the tension was taking a toll on her health.

My parents tried doing whatever they could to get me somewhere else. After all, they just wanted me to be happy and grow as a person. Noting the various adventures of my life that would become more practical if I moved out (my job, various extracurricular activities, writing accomplishments) Dad pointed out that, for all my faults, I had plenty of potential that shouldn’t be overlooked, period.

To cope with my struggling mental health, I decided to take advantage of various activities here in Morristown, even joining a running club, and playing librarian by reading to my sister whenever I saw her. Even as the tension and Mom’s sickness grew, I tried my best I stay positive, figuring this was just a bump in the road of life.

Nothing, however, would prepare me for what happened next.

Shortly before Christmas, Mom was admitted to the hospital. She had been in and out of the hospital since being diagnosed with cancer. I hated to see Mom struggle like this, especially during such a special occasion. So, I went to my computer and immediately wrote a story about how she helped get me a Birthright Trip into Israel. Dad was immediately touched by the whole thing, and while she couldn’t tell me, I’m sure Mom was as well.

Unfortunately, at appromixately 12:30 that morning, the doctors called to tell us her cancer was terminal.

I was absolutely devastated and figured I would do anything to get her better. I even offered to ditch the internet if it worked.

Eventually, her cancer took her life. I was heartbroken, and figured that right then and there, I was going to be there for Dad, against all odds. Dad was so impresserd at whow much I had matured since then, but I figured I was just doing what was to be expected in a situation like this.

About one week shy of my 26th birthday, I decided to create my own version of The Pretty Reckless’ “25” (It was actually going to be more extravagant, but, well…life got in the way and I got really lazy.) I really believed it captured how I felt about my life during that period and how it dearly impacted me as a person.