Mid-Life Crises?

Is it considered a midlife crisis if it has been your dream since middle school?

The boys played quietly in the corner. They have been angels while we went line by line through the contract. Jennifer paid attention, nodded at the appropriate times, but I could tell by her glassed over eyes that she was mentally checked out. We were in a beautiful real estate office a block from the river. The room was filled with a tempered excitement of new adventures, partnered with a relief of selling off a business that had provided for a wonderful family.

This not-a-midlife-crisis was about to become a reality. All of the walk-throughs, the sit-downs, the dreaming, the planning, came to a crescendo in this moment. The terms would suffice, only a few more lines needed correction. We would meet again later and actually enter into this agreement, legally. 

Jennifer and I stepped outside with the kids, took them down by the river. As the water lapped lazily along the shoreline, we told the boys…

Let me introduce myself. I am Dan, well, my friends call me Twinkle Toes. I’m married to Jennifer, the love of my life. I have two amazing boys, Kaden and Walker. Kaden is 4 and is an adventurous spirit. He has some health issues (hypothyroidism, apraxia, celiac) but attacks life with a joy I wish we could all exude. Walker is 7 and is the most polite, studious, and athletic kid you will ever meet. He looks at life with an appreciation for doing what is right. My wife, Jennifer, well there simply aren’t enough words in the English language that describe how amazing she is. She’s the most involved and active mother you’ll ever meet. A wonderful and encouraging partner, I couldn’t find a better person to call my bride. Then there’s me. A 35 year old with the maturity level of a 16 year old, I have a positive outlook on life, and will lend a helping hand anywhere I can.

This story really begins in August of 2018 when I had knee surgery, a complete replacement of the ACL, two meniscus tears, and a few other letters of the alphabet thrown in for good measure. I was on the shelf for 12 weeks. I hadn’t been out of a job for this long since I was thirteen years old. I began my young career at a company called PatCo (not PetCo) Electronics. We built the “hot boxes” that let you jumpstart a vehicle without another vehicle present. From there I got a job as a dishwasher, handwashing dishes at a BBQ restaurant at fourteen years old. My career took me to a few other jobs along the way: bus boy, kitchen boy at an all-girls camp, manager of a cigar shop, customer service, order entry. I finally landed as a member of the leadership team at a 5-Star 5-Diamond resort. This was a dream job. I always loved the hospitality industry, particularly the culinary and restaurant side. At the time of my surgery, I had been with the company for over ten years and was managing four of our restaurants. 

So here I was, a workaholic now forced to have some down time. How would I fill the time? Thankfully, it was football season, so that occupied most weekends. I travelled to a dozen or so games over the season (a personal record). I helped around the house. My wife runs the pumpkin patch at our church, and I helped with that. I spent a lot of quality time with my boys and wife. Is this what people who have a “normal” job feel like? Weekends for fun, evenings after school to hang out. This was awesome.

A few years ago, my mom gave Jennifer and I the book “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.” You’ve probably seen the Netflix show about Marie Kondo the author, but we were early adapters. We were weeks away from the birth of our second born, and during the time away from work we decided to begin decluttering. First was the closet! Wow, we pulled everything into our spacious living room, and the piles almost reached the ceiling. How did all of that fit into our closet? It was way too much for two humans to possess. We got rid of quite a bit, and then we hung the clothes back up, but with the hangers hanging backwards. In six months, we would toss anything that was still hanging backwards.  Jennifer kept the decluttering going and cleaned out the kitchen. We actually had nothing sitting on the counters, and even had an empty drawer and cabinet. Can you even imagine? Over the course of the next three years we would work towards decluttering more, but while it was always something we were doing, it was more of a passive attempt. But with me out of work, the time came. We decided to be “relentless” in our attempts. We purged the boys’ room, the guest room, our closet again, every aspect of the house was taken down to what we truly needed. Man, this felt great. We were really taking this minimalist lifestyle seriously…

As we travelled to football games during my time off, we spent more time in my hometown than I have since I graduated high school. The small town of Titusville, Florida was a great place to grow up. I enjoyed bringing my family down to Titusville to let them get to know the town even better. We slowly realized we enjoyed our time in Titusville—and the community of family and friends we had there. I was back to work and getting adjusted to not having so much family time, but then an idea hatched.

Our house was already for sale, what if we relocated? We began looking for jobs in Titusville, as this idea of relocation was just starting to bubble. My wife is the Director of Family Ministries at our church. We thought maybe she could find a comparable position down there, or become a schoolteacher or work at a preschool. But for me there weren’t any comparable resorts or fine dining in the area. What would I do? Become a high school teacher? Get a job out at the Space Center? 

But then there it was, one of my favorite restaurants, a ’50s style drive-in for sale. This could be it—I’d own my own restaurant. I would be able to close the business on my schedule. Spend time with the family. We could raise the boys in the restaurant. A mental picture of Kaden standing on a milk crate washing dishes in a three compartment sink, while Walker carries out trash to the dumpster played over and over in my head. 

I arranged a meeting with the owners, a wonderful family. I grew up with their children. Their restaurant was an icon in the community. They were not just great people; they ran a great restaurant. They kept the place so clean, it looked as if no one had ever cooked in the kitchen. Their business reputation was impeccable. I was amazed looking through the back of house. I have spent over half of my life in kitchens, and this was one of the cleanest I’ve seen. The finances of the restaurant were also impressive. 

Man, this was it. 

I went home and talked it over with Jen. She was nervous and wanted to check it out for herself. So another meeting was arranged, and again the tires were kicked, and again the place impressed. Jennifer was now on board. We repeated this routine with my parents, because even though we are grown adults, we still need mom and dad to sign off. With all the boxes checked, it was time to get down to the brass tax. Negotiations commenced. The real estate agent was a dream. While technically a sellers’ agent, she worked hard to get a fair deal for all parties. We had a rough outline of an agreement. She would get the paper work printed, and we were to meet at her office in a few days.

As we stood by the river, we finally told the boys what was happening. We were very seriously considering leaving our island home and moving to Titusville. The boys were both born on St. Simons Island, an amazing community where my wife had also grown up. We had her parents and grandmother close by. The island had been voted Best Beach Town, along with a ton of other “Best of Awards”. It was truly a paradise. Could we really leave this place? We were ingrained into the fabric of this community. The previous two years, I had been named volunteer of the year. Jennifer was a staple at the elementary school Walker attended, serving on school council, volunteering regularly. We were both highly active in the church. 

This was the hardest decision of our lives, but we felt we were being called to do something. The house was still on the market, but the school year was winding down. While I’m certain the boys couldn’t fully comprehend what we were telling them, they were both excited for this new adventure..

On this crazy day, we had met with the owners of the restaurant, along with the real estate agent, and hammered out all the details. We had told the boys. Jennifer and I were exhausted and ready for bed. As we laid down, we began to discuss what exactly the future would look like. We agreed to the biggest decision of our lives…and it wasn’t to buy a restaurant.