I'm almost one year older as my driver's license states.
I must pay for registration so that I'll have legal plates.
The vision test's the only part that I will truly fear.
So if I know the letters, I'm on the road next year.
I am about two weeks from celebrating another birthday. After this, I am out of sixties numbers and that is alright with me. Thanks to several wonderful doctors I am still in pretty good health. Thanks to an unlimited amount of support from friends and family, I am mentally strong. For that I am grateful.
Now, let's talk about aging. When I was very young I did what most kids did and probably still do. I was always my age plus a fraction. I wasn't six: I was six and a half. The half seemed to mean a lot back then, but that has disappeared for me. I don't remember ever saying that I was sixty-eight and a half. I think the fractions disappear once you are old enough to drive, drink, or vote.
I call the time when I was raising my sons the "Mr. Joe" years. Since they have become adults they are both doing well. As a matter of fact, they received degrees with honors and they both worked very hard to achieve their goals.It wasn't always that way.
This approaching birthday reminded me of a story from roughly thirty-five years ago. Money was scarce even though I always worked full time.
Every once in a while I could afford to take my sons to a movie. I'm not talking a giant drink and popcorn. I mean that I could afford to pay for the admission. That's when the fraction added to the age got me. I don't remember the cutoff for kids tickets back then, but it was young. It might have been even six or seven. I remember telling the lady at the ticket counter that Jason was six and a half. He would always get upset and tell them that he was seven. There were a few times when we had to drive back home. If you don't have it...you don't have it.
I remember when the boys were in daycare and they would force me to work over. I was making eleven dollars an hour and roughly sixteen on overtime. I was supposed to get off work at four thirty, but that didn't happen that often. The daycare closed at six and they charged a dollar a minute when they had to stay open until you picked up your kids
I'm good enough at math to know that if you are bringing in sixteen dollars an hour before taxes, paying out sixty doesn't work.
I'm looking forward to my birthday because it reminds me that I have been blessed for yet another year. I think that if I have a cake it might have Roman Numerals for candles. That's cool. I like to think that I am a few years away from having only one. Thanks to the fact that I quit smoking six years ago, I will easily blow them out. That's pretty cool, too.