We're Always Coming of Age

by Penny Costello

The phrase "coming-of-age story" most often brings to mind the image of an adolescent or teenager becoming an adult. Merriam Webster defines “coming of age” as the attainment of prominence, respectability, recognition, or maturity. I have come to believe that coming of age is not a one and done deal.

I recently had the chance to visit Bruce, a dear old friend in Colorado, whom I met when I moved to Boulder in 1977 to attend the University of Colorado. At the time, my cousin owned a liquor store in Boulder. My older brother worked there, and so did Bruce.

The first time I met him, I stopped into the liquor store to see my brother, and Bruce greeted me from behind the cash register. It was one of those “when our eyes met” moments. It wasn’t love at first sight, but it was most certainly friendship at first sight. One of those priceless moments when you see someone, and you recognize each other as if you’ve known each other forever in spite of the fact that you’ve never met. There is a sense of “I’m glad you finally showed up. I’ve been waiting for you. Let’s go play.”

Coming of Age circa 1978

I can still see his eyes and his smile in that moment. He was in his mid-twenties, and I was nineteen. As a friend and a peer, he was far enough ahead of me in his coming-of-age process that he offered guidance, perspective, and advice when I needed it, and sometimes when I didn’t think I needed it. Those are the truest of friends – they hold up a mirror that reflects both what is fabulous and what is flawed in us. We can laugh and cry with them, and rage against the forces that threaten to limit what is possible when we want more. They help us grow into the people we want to be, and the magic and memories of that journey last a lifetime.

Throughout the years I lived in Colorado, Bruce was my best friend, my confidante, my play mate, my person. He helped me navigate that tenuous road into adulthood. His friendship, acceptance, encouragement, and humor made it a downright enjoyable journey.

Then life took us in different directions. We lived in different states, married other people, developed careers and families, and made lives. We kept in touch to the extent that we always knew where the other lived, we visited each other a few times in our travels, but we didn’t talk or see each other often. Yet our friendship has sustained.

So, when we had a chance to meet for breakfast on a recent trip through Boulder, I was very excited to see him. Back in the 70s when we were watching the Grateful Dead, Bruce Springsteen, and Joni Mitchell at Red Rocks Amphitheatre, I’m sure it never occurred to me that one day I would introduce Bruce to my grandchildren. But here we were. My granddaughter, close to the same age I was when I met him, going into her second year of college, as was I when I met him, listened to our stories with polite interest.

As we chatted over breakfast, Bruce told me about his family, his sons, and his grandchildren. While relaying a story about one of his grandsons, he said, “You know, it’s a coming-of-age story.” And something in my brain popped.

We’re always coming of age. That’s what life is. A series of coming-of-age stories. Forty-five years ago, when we met, we were looking ahead to the lives we would create. Much of it was exciting, fun, and the world was ours for the taking or making. And now here we sat, talking about grandchildren, retirement, whether to downsize, how to adapt to limited incomes and still make the absolute best of the years we have left with no idea or guarantee of how many years that may be. 

Coming of Age, 2022

In the midst of all that "Boomer" talk, if my granddaughter or anyone else had thought to ask if we felt four decades older, I'm sure both of our answers would be a resounding "NO!"

In many ways, the road ahead is just as uncertain and undefined as it was when we were 19 and 24. Then we wondered what we would make of our lives and our world. Now, while we hope what we’ve made will be enough, that it will be of benefit, and that our time here will have made life better for others, we also hope there is another chapter ahead for us. We’re still coming of age. And we’ll continue to do that until we stop aging.

What a gift it is to have that kind of friendship. To be able to gaze into the face of a person you’ve known for so long, to see past the gray hair and laugh lines and recognize that timeless, ageless spirit that greeted you with a smile from behind the register at that liquor store so long ago. And then you pick up the conversation right where you left off. Time has no meaning. The memories, laughter, and connection sustain no matter how many coming-of-age stories you’ve traveled through, or how many more may be to come.

The moral of the story is this: Coming-of-age is a journey, not a destination, and each day offers the chance to share laughter and memories with a friend, or to be a positive force in someone’s life. That is also a gift. I’m grateful for the purpose, hope, and life force that realization provides as I continue coming of age. 

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