Happy Birthday To Me

The guy hobbling into my office was literally a lifetime ahead of me. On the day of our visit, he was turning eighty and I forty. We shared a birthday. Things started as usual, an exchange of pleasantries and and then on to medical issues. What really concerned him that day, however, was his son. He still hadn't got married yet. Then there was his garden, his tomatoes were over watered.

We chatted easily as I finished my exam. His blood pressure was stable and his diabetes was controlled with diet only. I pushed my computer to the side and took a long look at him. He was exactly what most of us strived to be. Healthy and active,he was tackling his eighth decade with grace and beauty. I paused at my own reticence in leaving the thirties behind. It was a big day for both of us. Then I asked the question that had been on my mind about myself since waking up that morning (just change the number.)

So how does it feel to be eighty?

He smiled before answering. I sensed both pride and melancholy.

I still wake up every morning with the sweet taste of dreams on my tongue and a new plan for each day.

We both chuckled before I replied.

Ya, me too!