On the Eve of 53

Getting older pretty much sucks

Unless, life began poorly,

a dearth of necessities and nurturing

and general human hardship

improving it over time.

Like me, for instance.

I came into this world

to parents who loved me,

grandmothers who guided me,

siblings who played with me,

eggs for breakfast, grilled cheese for lunch,

hamburger pie or Vince’s spaghetti

for dinner. Lots of cousins, a horse and barn,

oh, and the darn chickens and rabbits,

and even a cow at one point.

It was a pretty miserable beginning.

And then, I had to go to school—

college even. And Europe. I lived there

for awhile. Oh, and I had to parasail

once and scuba dive. It was pretty

awful.

Of course, I then had to get married,

buy a house, raise a kid, adopt a kid,

get dogs and cats, build a career

doing something I loved—see how it’s

all building up to that sucky part?

Now on the eve of 53, I still have

loving parents, a good husband, kids,

and oh, those grandkids, siblings, cousins,

fond memories of those iconic grandmothers,

friends, a bucket full of experiences

that make every day richer—

like seeing Casablanca after studying

the script for a week or cresting

Haleakala after watching the lava

spill of Kilauea.

It’s just lousy.IMG_5609

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