Flies

Happy New Year!

I’ve got to tell you, for some reason, this New Year hit me hard.

And unexpectedly.

And unexpectedly hard.

I went into 2023 feeling great. 2022 was a good year: I graduated law school, passed the bar exam, and started working as a real attorney. There were other great things, too! The Resurrection of Jesse Barrow was published, I had an amazing vacation with my family, and Arsenal is top of the league!

So, there wasn’t any “thank god that year is over with,” going on. And on top of it, it appeared that there was a lot to look forward to in 2023.

Having a paycheck for one! I’ve also got another novel finished and going through a final round of edits. My family has goals and plans and ideas, and everyone is currently healthy.

And then I got my doors blown in on New Year’s Day.

Out of nowhere, I found myself in my car, bawling my eyes out uncontrollably.

And what did it? A hug from my kid.


We were all leaving a restaurant and she was going with her grandma to spend some time together, and we said goodbye, and then she turned back toward me and ran into my arms. Gave me a huge hug… and just because.

I can tell you the tears I cried when I got in my car were good tears–even though they lasted most of the afternoon–so don’t feel like you need to worry about me!

But at that moment, I got so struck by how fleeting things are. My kids are growing up. FAST. In less than two months, I’m going to turn a year older than I’d like to admit.

Time FLIES.

And nothing is guaranteed.

This would have gotten me really down in the past, honestly, feeling like life is too short and it’s just slipping through my fingers. And this is something we, as humans, have probably dealt with since we started walking upright. It’s not a novel problem.

I remember my mom telling me from the time I was probably in fifth grade—don’t wish your life away. We’d be driving to school on a Monday morning and I’d say, “UGH, I can’t wait until Friday.”

And she would remind that were five, full, beautiful days between that moment and the moment I was longing for. Five full, beautiful days of being a fifth grader that I never got back.

I’ve thought about her advice throughout my life, and it was certainly well-taken.

That being said, when you get to a certain age, you stop wishing your life away and start wishing that it would slow down. And that can be even worse.

You stop fretting Monday when you’re in it and start fretting Tuesday because that’ll mean another precious day is gone.

In the words of county music legend Whisperin’ Bill Anderson:

“The young wish they were older and the old wish they were young. Everybody wants to be twenty-one.”

(Side Note: I shot the music video for this song with my good friend Jamie Jean!)


Lately, however, I’ve been reciting a little mantra that has helped draw out some of the sting:

This moment is exactly what it is meant to be.

The next moment will be something different.

And that is life.



And that’s okay. Because that is life.

This moment is exactly what it is supposed to be.

So, this year, join me.

Let’s not clutch at straws and grass: let’s be present, let’s be engaged, let’s be creative, and let’s be extravagant.

Let’s love and make love and let’s make the world a better place.

Let’s let our moments speak for themselves.

Let’s quit wishing for the future.

Let’s stop yearning for the past.

Because this moment is our life.

-Brandon

The Resurrection of Jesse Barrow is available here.