The sun is the same in a relative way, but you’re older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death
“Time”, Pink Floyd
When I was a kid, I thought 60 was old.
As I turn 60 today, I still think so.
Sixty. It just sounds old to me. It means I’m now officially an Old Man..
And no B.S. about “60 is the new 40.” It’s the same old 60, if you ask me.
This wasn’t supposed to happen to me already, for corn’s sake, as Fred Mertz used to say.
I’m hiring a private detective to track down where all the previous years went. I’ve done the math over and over, and get the same answer. Something is definitely amiss here.
On the bright side, I’m eligible now for lots of discounts.
I don’t know; turning 40 and 50 didn’t seem to bother me as much as this does. Maybe I’m more worried about my future: A, how much longer will it be and B, what kind of health will I be in?
Before I go any farther, I acknowledge all you geezers out there who left 60 in your rearview mirror some time ago, laughing at my lamentations over turning “just 60.”
Well, I’m sorry, but I’ve never been here before, and it’s a little scary. And, given my resting state, somewhat depressing.
Despite said depression, though, I must say that I’m glad to still be around. Most days, anyway. The bad days ain’t all gone, but they are fewer. For now, at least.
And, for that, I’m grateful.
I’d like to think I’ve learned a few things by now but, honestly, I’m not so sure what, if anything, that would be. In some ways, I feel like I’m still trying to learn how to be a man. Even at 60.
(The word man has always felt awkward to me, anyway. I still think of myself as some goofy kid a lot of the time.)
I realize I still have much to learn about love, respect, compassion, forgiveness, patience, good health, and a few other things. I guess the lessons never end.
I guess they’re not supposed to. I used to think, by the time I reached 60, I’d finally have things figured out. Turns out, not even close; I feel about as clueless now as I ever did. Must be a really slow learner.
So, onward I go, my hair more gray and less voluminous, my back a little more bent, my feet garbed in the age-appropriate socks and sandals. I’ve got my health, my job, my stunning good looks (Ha!), my friends and family, my lovely wife of now 35 years, and our two spoiled rotten cats, Izzy and Lizzy. Life is pretty good for this Old Man.
Well, gotta go. I got an early bird dinner to get to. Outta my way, whippersnapper!