I’m turning 61 today. Please, this is not a desperate cry in to the ether (remember Ethernet?) for birthday wishes. It is merely an observation I believe others can relate to.
We are all afflicted with the dreaded hereafter disease. It’s that moment you walk into a room/closet/garage and think, “Huh! What did I come in here for?” Elise coined the term for me, “What am I here after?”
I’m now officially not part of the hip generation. My kids are the young adults and I am looking at my elbows thinking, “When did that happen?” I’m also OK with that.
It has taken me longer than most to just be OK with the slide around the corner to being old. I mean, I’m not 80, but I’m a whole lot closer to it than I was 20 years ago. I think I became OK with it as soon as I settled into a day with my Doppelgänger; my cohort of more than forty years. Reviewing the photos later that same day, my quiet voice whispered, “We only appear different to those who haven’t traveled those years with us. To me, we haven’t changed a hair.”
Dopp and I 25 years ago – Hanni’s Christening
Happy Birthday to Me!
N.B. Part of my big leap/throw the cards in the air this year was to shear the cloud of hair that was me for so many years. With the humidity, it hasn’t really change much with a 6 inch reduction in length. The second photo of Dopp and I is from 25 years ago, the last time I cut my hair.