I will experience my 65th birthday next week. I use the term experience rather than celebrate. I don't feel like celebrating.
I well remember my 40th birthday, the paper tombstones that my employees set all round my desk, and the over the hill posters of an old man with no teeth. I shrugged that all off. I didn't feel old. I didn't look old.
In fact, at 40, I was at the top of my game. I had gone through the ranks of my profession quickly and was just on the cusp of being promoted to the second highest position in the organization. I went on a sailing trips with friends to celebrate and had a great time. We drank several gallons of scotch, caught more than our limit of fish, and engaged in numberless stories of one-upsmanship.
I felt no angst on the day of my 50th birthday. I had for some time been the number two person in my organization, I had two grown children and a much unexpected 4 year old to keep me young, and I still didn't feel old or look old.
My 4 year old is now nearing 21 and is a college student out of state. My high school class of 1964 is holding a 47 year reunion that includes the classes of 64/65 and 66 as a number of persons in each class have died. There were two new obituaries of persons who died this week.
What's to celebrate? Well, I have a long list. I have 3 great children, a loving and devoted wife, students that I mostly enjoy, good health, a mind that is still clear, a few good friends, two great cats, a nice home, and the list goes on.
I now feel a bit old, and I look old. If I could remove all the mirrors from my home I think I might feel like celebrating.
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