This week I turned 78. That means I'm closer to 80 than to 75. Can I really have lived that many years?
28489 days. And I can only remember bits and pieces of a fraction of those days. Some are big events that I remember, and some are quite small, interestingly.....where I probably didn't really register them at the time.
Thank goodness for photographs and movies. I remember so much more from them, which is what I want since my life has been so very good.
I spent 30 years working (plus another 11 getting prepared for working). I can remember only snatches of those years.
My most vivid memories are in three categories: 1. my childhood and adolescence. 2. my children. 3. My time with Vicky and all of the wonderful things we shared together.
And virtually all of my memories are positive. All maybe. The most powerfully negative ones aren't really even inherently negative. They are the death of my parents. I would feel worse about that except that I know they had full, rich, and loving lives. And died old. I was holding my mother's hand as she died. I often say that I want to live a good life so that, if there's a heaven, I can go there and see them again. I know the first thing I will say to my father: "Dad, Mom did not die alone."
As an old guy I do a lot of reflection. So does Vicky (although she's neither old nor a guy). We like to talk about our remembrances.
Well, my 78th birthday celebration(s) will be, someday, a part of those remembrances.
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