Thursday, September 6, 2007
My latest birthday slipped by without much fanfare, thank goodness. Most people tend to overlook 46, I guess. There’s nothing significant about that one, except that it’s one year closer to 50.
Speaking of 50, my sister Gayla celebrated that big one in mid-August. And she can’t wait until four more years, to pay me back.
My sister Vickie and I put an ad in the Hamilton, Ala., newspaper. I supplied the writing and Vickie the photograph.
Gayla, no doubt, thought the writing was a bit more offensive than the photo. But she did manage to laugh a bit, too.
I wrote, “She’s got that new ride. She thinks she’s so cool. But being 50 she can’t hide. Age will always rule.”
She just purchased a nice, new automobile. I thought it was a fitting tribute.
The day the newspaper came out, she called me on my cell phone. I was on my way to Nashville, Tenn., for the Titans’ preseason game.
It was her way of warning me – about when I hit 50.
Gayla reminded me of it even more when the family came over to celebrate birthdays back on Saturday, Aug. 25. My birthday, plus my two sisters’ and my nephew’s are all in August. We group them all together each year.
I told her I took it easy on it for the party. There were no black decorations or anything like that, just a few more wise cracks.
I really can’t believe I’m four years from 50. Where have the years gone?
Recently Pam and I visited the Church of Christ in Hamilton, Ala. I saw many longtime friends, including one fellow graduate of the Class of 1979.
I asked her, “What about a 30-year reunion (in 2009), are we going to have one?”
Her response, jokingly, was something like this, “Barry, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You may be having a 30-year reunion – not me.”
Then I called good friend Rubye Del Harden to thank her for the birthday present delivered via UPS. Rubye Del always remembers birthdays. Personally, I’m terrible at that.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Forty-six,” I replied.
“No,” she said. “It can’t be.”
I am feeling a bit like 46. In the past couple of months, I’ve had a few more comments about my weight.
“My doctor tells me my weight is OK,” is my consistent reply. “She said I could stand to lose about 20 pounds.”
She’s not putting any pressure on me to not eat certain things, and what the doctor says is good enough for me.
Actually, I do hope to reduce my weight sometime soon rather than gain more. I need to set a goal, work toward it and achieve it. One of those goals needs to be cutting back on the soft drinks.
Then Sunday afternoon the age thing rose its ugly head.
I cranked the chain saw and set out to attack a good-sized fallen tree in our backyard. I think the drought caused the fall. A portion of the tree was basically dead. Another portion was pretty healthy.
My small saw wasn’t quite big enough for this tall task. But it performed well enough for me to take care of cutting it up as best I could and hauling it off.
And this out-of-shape, 46-year-old was almost not up to the task either. Plus the temperature in the mid-90s didn’t help much either.
It made be think about getting in shape. Again, I need to set a goal and reach it.
I got back into the house, put a cool towel on my neck, rested a bit, took a shower and then crashed on the bed for an afternoon nap.
I told Pam, “I can’t remember when I’ve ever been this tired.”
I suddenly recalled again my sister’s words – “You’ll be 50 soon yourself. You’re time is coming.”
Age is something we joke about, particularly after 40. But birthdays will always be special.
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