Life moves pretty fast (so says Ferris Bueller). If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
In my life this couldn’t be truer. My best estimates tell me, if all goes well, I am halfway through my lifetime.
That would make me 82 when it all comes crashing to a close.
This becomes more and more apparent as my evil spawn of a daughter continues to age at an alarmingly fast rate.
She is now 8 which is amazing considering we just brought her home from the hospital last week (at least it seems like last week).
I wouldn’t think about my age nearly as much if she didn’t point it out in a variety of ways.
She say things like “You’re old.” And “You”re really old.” And the ever popular “Don”t hurt yourself old man.”
She said the last one when I was doing the very strenuous task of picking a golf ball out of a puddle.
Does she think I am made of glass?
For her information, I having been hitting golf balls into the water for over 35 years with a spotless record of never injuring myself.
Sometimes her comments are more subtle.
Yesterday I got my driver’s license renewed. She pointed out that in 8 years she will be getting her license.
How is this possible?
How will she be old enough to drive? How will I be old enough to have an evil spawn that is old enough to drive?
One day I am a sophomore in high school with no clue, and the next I am 41 years old (still in school) with no clue.
It’s just not right that I will have a daughter who is old enough to drive (I am frightened for everyone who travels by car, truck, or walks on a sidewalk within 100 feet of a street).
Maybe she is right. Maybe I am old.
I have noticed that in the last 5 years, I attend far more funerals than I do weddings.
It is also apparent that my memory can at times be… what’s the word I am looking for… oh yeah… sketchy. My memory isn’t what I remember it being 10 years ago (I think, but who knows… because I can’t remember).
How many times do I have to go the store and stand in the middle of an aisle for 3 minutes because I can’t remember why I am there? When will I realize that I am incapable of leaving the house without a list?
This doesn’t bother me too much, because I realize a slight memory loss is the price of aging (and getting older sure beats the alternative).
What does worry me is what happened yesterday.
I was picking up the house so I could sit down and write a blog.
My last task was to clean off the kitchen counter.
No problem. Or so I thought.
Until a couple of hours later when I found the scissors I had put away… in the refrigerator.
The spawn may be smarter than I think. I am old. Maybe I will break a hip bending over to pick up a golf ball.
Which leads me to my newest problem.
I am the perfect age to have a midlife crisis. Except, I don’t have time because I am too busy.
I’m not exactly sure why. If I remember correctly (and since it’s not on a list, who knows), I used to have loads of free time.
Weekends were spent watching hours and hours of TV. I could complete all of my yard work in 2 hours. Now it takes 2 days and I’m still not finished.
Something has changed.
Where does my time go?
I spend a lot of time at work, but no more than normal. I also spend a lot of time playing with my evil spawn (even though one day she will no doubt put me in a nursing home), but not anymore than other parents.
And I spend time exercising.
That’s it.
That’s the one thing I do more of now, than I did 5 years ago. I exercise.
I exercise so I am healthy. Because if I am healthy, I can do more.
Except I am so tired from exercise that I actually do less.
Is this the official sign of being old?
Or is it when you put scissors in the wrong place? Or is it when you are a regular at funerals?
Who knows?
To tell you the truth, I don’t even have time to worry about getting old because I lost my wallet (with my brand new license).
There are good things about getting older. One, you get wiser.
That’s why the first place I am going to look for my wallet is the refrigerator.
And if I find it, I am going to the store because I need to get… something (it will come to me… sooner or later).