On Turning 75

 

My mother is now reaching the three-quarter century mark. I mistakenly thought it was 74, but subsequent investigation proves me wrong.

Three-quarters of a century is a long time. You see a lot of things, good and bad, in that time. The fact is my mother seems to bear her various challenges, some of which I might even call 'greater than average', with aplomb and with a certain dignity. She's a far stronger person I think (as is my father) than I might be in the same situation. And she does not let her circumstances and her decaying health lead her into despair or a negative outlook upon the world. That is, to me, the most amazing part.

I figure now all she has to do is hang on for another few decades and maybe she'll see me settled down and with some grandkids for her. (Okay, who am I kidding? I'm terminally single and grandkids are fairly unlikely....)

At least she gets to enjoy my friends kids. That's the closest I think she'll get to having any grandkids of her own now.

Here's to 75 years young! As an earthy friend of mine observed recently about my Dad's 77th birthday: "Any day on the right side of the flowers is a good day."