I realize it has been some time since I have posted anything on this blog. So long in fact, I am not sure blogging is even a thing anymore. But I am quickly reaching a milestone in my life, my sixty-fifth birthday.
This one is different, I think it is because I realize that I have more years behind me than I do in front of me. Not that I think I am going to go anytime soon, but there is a more than likely chance I could.
The first sixty-four really didn’t affect me a whole lot. I was never one of those who would dread reaching a certain number. I think the only one I looked forward to was my eighteenth, and that was because I would be legally old enough to purchase alcohol. What a mistake that turned out to be.
I’m relatively in good shape. Well, except for the bad back, 40 pounds of extra weight, type II diabetes, prostate problems, and numerous other complaints, and umm let’s see, I know there something else. Wait, that’s right, I know memory problems. I think I have lived with them all for so long, it is like they aren’t even there.
The funny thing is I don’t feel like 65 years have gone by. At least not until I take a look around me and see how much older everyone around me is. When did that happen? Actually, I feel it more when I realize how many people are gone from my life. Parents, grandparents, one sibling, all but four uncles and aunts, and even a few cousins.
Most of my good friends are also gone, they were older than me. For some reason, I just knew a lot of older people. It seemed I always had more in common with them. Like alcohol.
It doesn’t seem like 65 years. But really, how do you measure time? Some days time goes slow, some days time goes fast. Some of them you remember, some you don’t.But in reality, they are all the same length. I guess it is what you do with your time that matters.
As someone once said “It’s not the years in your life that matter, but the life in your years.”
