When I’m Sixty Four

Well, as of today, I am.

We are the product of a mysterious combination of genes and history. As time races in that singular direction the history part becomes ever larger. So I’ve noticed…

I’m not losing my hair, but vastly more grey than brown. And those lines in my face are not all laugh lines.

I have no idea where that thin young man who shares my name went. The one who I expect to see in the mirror. Parts continue, no doubt, but mostly he is long gone and someone standing at the edge of old age has taken his place, smiling ruefully at me in that mirror.

And, somehow, here I am.

My place.

And, you know, really, not all that bad.

In the cosmic lottery, I certainly have been fortunate.

So far…

So grateful…

Bows to the universe for the gift…