Halfway to Ninety

I can’t take sole credit for the phrase. Apropos of nothing, my aunt Margaret said the same thing on a voice message that she left earlier today, but I’d been thinking it. I am now 45. If I live to be ninety, I’ve reached the halfway point today.

Mathematics always thinks of new ways to reinforce your feeling of being old.

It was a bit of a hard day today, because I realized that this was my first birthday without my mother present. I know that holidays are hard after a loved one passes away, and Easter was difficult all-round this household, but this caught me by surprise. I guess I personally was too focused on Easter. It made for a rather subdued day.

But the kids, Rosemarie and Michael helped make me a steak dinner, then I had a nice tea with my father while we watched the new episode of Doctor Who. And I managed to clock more than 107 notes on Facebook from friends wishing me a happy birthday, so there’s that. I’m not being facetious, either; getting that level of response reminds me of how many people I’m connected to, and I value all those friendships and relationships.

In other news, spring is here at last, and the weather has been helping. The allergy season has started, but it’s worth it to see blue skies again, and to see the trees starting to bloom.

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