taken from

—Chapter 1 —

How Did I Get to Be 48?

I mean really…how did this happen?

It didn’t really sneak up on me…I mean, of course I knew that it was coming… this “getting old(er)” thing. But I think what I wasn’t expecting was that I would actually realize that I wasn’t young anymore. It’s easy to continually think that you’re still young, or at least younger than you really are, especially when you do a lot of things in life that help you feel like you’re still young.

It seems like there ought to be some “exclusion” rules. You know – if I don’t have or do certain things… or if I still have or do certain things, then – by definition – I’m not really old, right? For example – if I don’t even have a credit card, or if I don’t set up a responsible retirement plan – then I’m not really old, am I? Or – if I still have all of my old Hot Wheels, or I still spend an occasional Saturday morning watching cartoons… well… then I’m not really old, am I? I think I’m grasping at straws here.

I’m fortunate enough to not have any health problems, still have all my hair, and I don’t need glasses. I’ve been involved in a group that interacts with lots of college students on a frequent basis. I also play racquetball pretty regularly and am fairly active overall. I still feel young!

But… it’s becoming more and more evident that I am indeed aging, and that my generation is no longer the young and hip generation (I know, I’m something like two generations off the lead now). I remember that I used to think 30 was old… and then I thought 40 was old… pretty soon 50 won’t be old. Or – 50 will be the new 40… just like 40 was the new 30… well, you get the idea.

I really have to just take a step back and face the fact… I am almost 50! Can this really be possible? There must be some sort of mistake! Sometimes, my brother and sisters and I all sit around and discuss our ages in disbelief. We still call ourselves “the kids,” our folks’ name for us. We’ve all got good jobs, families, 2.5 kids… and even some of them are married. But – we still feel like kids! And my brother and I especially still act like kids, too.

I guess that I could quote the Monday morning water cooler back-and-forth regarding the fact that I’m getting older and say “Well, it beats the alternative!” And, obviously, I do agree that I’d rather be 48 than… well… the alternative.

So, as I’ve pondered, reflected, fretted, and maybe even regretted getting older, I’ve come to a conclusion: I have a lifetime of memories – or at least 40 some-odd years worth – and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. That’s not to say that I’ve enjoyed every minute of every day of every year. There are plenty of unpleasant memories that have transpired over the years – the loss of friends and loved ones, financial woes, relational disappointments – but it’s all been a part of my life and has made me who and what I am.

If you’re right around the same age as I am, I’m sure you can relate. I’m sure that sometimes you have that heart-skipping-a-beat feeling when you realize that there’s a good chance that – by the odds – your life is more than half over. Yeah – sorry about that. Well, the intent of my recollections, musings, and perhaps humorous observations, is not to cause you to fret over this, but rather to help you recall your own childhood experiences, maybe cause you to reflect on what it is in your childhood that shaped and molded you to be uniquely you, and last but not least – maybe give you a chance to look back and have a few laughs.