Sixty-Freakin’-Six

The phone rang first thing this morning and when I picked it up, I heard the sweet sound of my three grandchildren singing Happy Birthday.   What a great way to start my sixty-sixth.   I had a conference call with several colleagues to discuss several interesting jobs we’re considering bidding, so after a morning Happy Birthday hug and kiss from my wife, I headed off to the park to call in to our conference line.   When business was good, one way I celebrated being self-employed was making my morning business calls from the park.    It made me feel like a free man after years in big industry.   Even though business has declined, I still enjoy talking business looking out over the lake with the birds chirping in the background.  The call went well … my business partner and I came up with interesting ideas to propose on two subjects.   Short term, that means a lot of (interesting) work writing the proposals with no pay … longer term, maybe some income.    After the call, I drove to the local office where I volunteer Thursdays and helped get our newsletter, the Orange Blossom, ready for mailing.   Service is a good thing on any day.  My friend Sharon, the office coordinator, made me a lovely lemon cake.   Nice.

I met my wife in the park afterward where we hung out, just chatting, for most of the afternoon, doing nothing but doing what we call being babies together.  Later at home I found a large Happy Birthday sign from my son taped to my computer monitor and six or seven Happy Birthdays on my Facebook wall (only one followed by the words, you old fart … from my Men’s Group friend, Jay).   One was from a woman who played soccer for me when she was about ten, a long time ago.  My daughter thinks she’s stalking me … I’ll just assume it’s because I was an amazing coach who changed her life forever.  There was also an invitation to lunch from my daughter, which I’ll gladly accept .  The Birthday Dinner consisted of piece of Sharon’s lemon cake as an appetizer, stuffed chicken breasts with rice pilaf and asparagus, along with a homemade apple pie for dessert (My wife’s are the best.  Sorry Mom.  Sorry, daughter).   Sugar rush, sugar rush.   There were five cards to open, two funny and three serious, and one present, a new pair of Bose QuietComfort noise canceling headphones, from my wife.   Airline heaven.   We’re going to go out to dinner to celebrate Saturday night, so tonight my wife is off to walk with her new walking group and I’m headed to my Thursday Night Men’s Meeting.

A year ago, the anticipation of turning sixty-five was largely responsible for the birth of Bud’s Blog and for it’s first post, Feeling Old.   When I went back to read it today, I realized that the very first comment on my blog was from my sister-in-law, Sandy, who is with us only in spirit now.   She said, I love thy blog…ye old Renaissance man!  Brought a few laughs, tears and lots of thoughts to mind.  Love, S.   Thanks, Sandy.  What a gift it was knowing you.   Searching for the positive in my sixty-fifth birthday post, Turning Sixty-Five, I wrote about my Best Day, the day my wife and I were pinned (a quaint old fraternity custom).   It was an introspective time brought on by … well … feeling old.   In the last year, a lot has happened, some of it magic and some of it tragic* … and some of it just life on life’s terms.   And now, I’m Sixty-Freakin’-Six.   But I’m loved.   Alive.  And I was able to celebrate this year’s birthday in a lower key without any heavy emotional or spiritual heavy lifting to get through it.   Unlike last year, although I know a year has passed since I wrote Feeling Old, I don’t any more.   Feeling Old has morphed into Feeling Older.   You may have to be sixty-six to realize what a big difference two letters make.

* A great line from a great song,  Jimmy Buffet’s He Went to Paris.  Listen here.

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Tags: family, feeling older, friends, grandchildren, gratitude, holidays, marriage, sage, smiles

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