This is part one of a two-part story that will conclude next Friday, July 4th. Thanks, as always, for reading and please share your thoughts when you're done. Have a great Friday!

It's Wednesday morning, and I'm heading over to an auto parts store to pick up some paint. Our 1998 Toyota Camry, with 194,000 miles, has an engine that keeps on chugging. However, everything around the engine is threatening to give out. I'm worried that, without some work, I'll be driving it around like Fred Flintstone, legs dangling out through the floorboard.

I pull the car up slowly to the front of the house. It's a quaint brick house, built in the 1940s and  shaded by a large elm tree in the front yard. Addie and Bridgette hop out of the car and get to work. They grab a wrapped sandwich, granola bar, banana and small carton of milk and place the items in a green basket. "Let's go, Dad!" Addie shouts, and my two girls race up the walkway to the faded red front door of the house. We tap on the door, announce "Meals on Wheels," and enter. 

It's 1:27 p.m. on an overcast Tuesday afternoon. I'm standing at the sink, dish towel draped over my shoulder, trying to determine how to quell an increasingly annoying ant problem. From the living room, I hear a loud twang. Addie has found my guitar and is "playing" it. She strums and bangs, and the sound is, well, unpleasant. Bridgette is doing some form of interpretive dance while Addie bangs away. I feel a slight headache coming on.

I'm 40. I hit the milestone about six months ago. Forty, to me, was a significant birthday. Somehow it seemed like the official transition from "young" to "middle age." I imagine this is around the time some experience the dreaded mid-life crisis. It certainly seemed like a good time to reflect on my life and to think about where it may be heading. After a short time, I acknowledged the uselessness of this endeavor. The truth is that I have no idea where I'm headed. I know this because, standing at the kitchen sink, I understand I never expected to be here on a Tuesday afternoon.