MY DIAMOND BIRTHDAY

MY DIAMOND BIRTHDAY
On November 22, I will be 75 years old. I surely never thought that I would last this long. I was really happy when I passed my 37th birthday. That was when my father passed away. I guess not being a professional prizefighter. Or smoking four packs of cigarettes a day saved me from his fate. Each year since then has kind of been a bonus to me and a joy on a daily basis.
When we passed the millennium, I was shocked. I had passed into another century. My children had children and I was able to be around them and see them grow. One of them will be in college next year and I am lucky I will see that.
My mind is still functioning on all of its 6 cylinders. I am still chock filled with useless and trivial information. My work as a lobbyist for rural schools still goes on not impeded by a lack of energy or confused thinking. I am still able to spout the same bromides as I did 20 years ago. I am still welcome in certain circles, if I don’t make a pest of myself.
I am encouraged by my older sister Renee, who is 7 years my senior. She is still as sharp as she was in high school. She still suffers no fools and is able to help senior citizens fill out their income tax forms. She still views me as her little brother and has been telling me for my lifetime, “Just wait till you are . . . “
Of course, my luck is really marrying Carol (50 years now). She has kept me occupied and healthy. Her concern for me has never been more evident when I had heart surgery a few years ago. She was always on the ball telling me what it is that the doctor said or what the home health care people wanted me to do. I credit her with making me last this long.
You must understand that my birthday, November 22nd, is both a happy and sad day for our family. You may remember that President Kennedy died on November 22, 1963. We did not celebrate my birthday on that day. I still remember Carol taking the chocolate cake that was being readied for candles and putting it back into the refrigerator. I am not even sure if we ever ate it.
I guess I will now start to think of myself as an older person. I noticed that I am being called “sir” almost anywhere I go. For those people who do that, I believe that they think it is the courteous thing to do. I kind of think of it as payback for all of those times in the Army when I had to say “sir” to the officers and salute automobiles with blue stickers, even if they were parked ( military people will understand).

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