A Little Past Forty

Yeah, that's what I am.  A little past forty, but a long way from over the hill.
Sounds like a country song, doesn't it?
Am I that predictable?  Good.
Ronnie McDowell.  Not a chart-buster by any means, but a cute little ditty from 1990.
I like to think I'm a long way from over the hill.
However, my body sometimes disagrees with my mind.
Just last week, I turned 43.  "It's just a number," most people tell me.
Not that I was overly concerned about it.  I like to think I don't look or act my age.
But with each passing year, it becomes painfully obvious (pardon the pun) that what I took for granted all these decades is the groundwork for a cruel reminder of my advancing years.
Case in point...though people are waiting until their later years to have children, take it from me...don't wait as long as me.  Keeping up with a very active three-year-old when you're in your forties is hard.
Someone once said "Growing old ain't for sissies!"
The irony in that statement just kills me.
The good thing is, I still have all of my own hair, and my own teeth, sans a few that were 'enhanced' from root canal work, and other than bloodwork for my annual physical, I'm not on any 'maintenance' plan insofar as medication and whatnot.
My class reunion committee met several times since last fall until our reunion earlier this month.  One of the things we discussed was how late to hold the reunion.
Not one of us suggested going past midnight.
Keep in mind, we're all married working parents with children.  But we like to think we're still hip.
We also try to temper that with reality.
One of our committee members said it best when we settled on 11pm as an appropriate time to end it.
"We're 43...what are we going to do?"
That generated a few chuckles, but she was right.  What are these 40-somethings going to do?
Go on a pub crawl?  Go down to the Strip District and do some clubbing?
Too old for the nightclubs, too young for the bridge club.  That's us.
My wife and I (though she's not yet 40) have a hard time staying up past 10 these days.
Despite that, we still do our hardest work before breakfast.
Getting out of bed.
Hard work indeed, but that's what separates us from the young 'uns.
The fact that we still do it.


NEXT WEEK:  Home Front