My wife, Kathleen, knows that birthdays haven’t always been a time of joy to me. When I turned thirty and my father proudly announced it from the pulpit, he didn’t realize what a horrible thing I thought he’d done. That happened back during the days when the younger folks thought people became ancient at thirty. That’s what I’d believed until it happened to me!
Forty was less of a problem, though. I had finally ended up in a career I really liked and was good at. And at least I’d gotten used to being “over the hill.”
Fifty was horrible, though. For some crazy reason, I had it in my head I wasn’t going to live till my fiftieth birthday. In fact, I wrote a novel (not yet published) about a man who believed the same thing about himself. Thanks to friends in Australia, Keith and Maggie Long, who helped me celebrate that birthday a few months early with a homemade cake and a humongous CD package containing all of the songs the Seekers had ever recorded.
As you’ve probably gathered, I survived turning fifty. And sixty.
Seventy is a funny age, though. I don’t feel as if I’m really old. Yet I’m so aware of the various ways my body is wearing down or out and of a condition or two I’m really not certain what to do something about. But at least I’ve made it through two cataract surgeries and have decent sight now–because of astigmatism, I still have to wear glasses–and have new hearing aids and have quit having to asking everyone to repeat everything.
Much to be thankful for. Thank You, Lord. Bunches and bunches.
Kathleen wanted this to be a really special birthday. She got me a new Yamaha MX-49 keyboard for my home recording studio and suggested and arranged a long weekend visit to Kentucky to visit the Creation Museum and the Ark Encounter. I’ll give you a report on those two visits in upcoming posts.
We’re staying at the First Farm Inn, a bed and breakfast that is just a couple of miles from the Creation Museum. It’s a horse farm, and we expect the rest of our visit to be just as pleasant as the first part.
I have to be honest. I’m writing this the evening of the 22nd; my birthday’s not actually until the 23rd. But I wanted to go ahead and write this while I was thinking about it.
Have any of your birthdays been extra special–either good or bad? How about sharing in a comment?
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