The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and I were finishing our supper. If anyone can put together a marvelous supper, it is she. If anybody can eat a marvelous supper, it is me.
As we were finishing, she looked over at me and said, "My dear, do you know what we will be celebrating next week?"
She caught me off guard because I had no idea what holiday was coming up. I'm not a holiday person. I don't mind celebrating holidays, but I can't keep up with them.
Rubbing my chin, I said, "Well, we just celebrated the 4th of July a week ago, so I'm not sure what that next holiday is."
"Oh, you silly boy," she said, laughing at me. "Just think for a while and maybe you'll come up with the right idea."
At my age, it's tough to think, even for a while. I had no idea what she was talking about, so I just inserted, "Is it one of our grandchildren's birthday?"
I couldn't think of anything else at the time. I know we have a bunch of children and grandchildren, and so I was suspecting that one of them was having a birthday. But, for the life of me, I couldn't tell her which one was having a birthday.
"No, no, no," she said, laughing at me. "None of our children or grandchildren are having birthdays rather, it is someone sitting here at our table."
"Oh," I said, "so you're having a birthday next week. How old are you going to be?"
"You're right about that," she said, "but somebody else is having a birthday next week. You have any idea who that might be?"
I thought for a moment, and then it finally hit me. "Do you mean I'm going to have a birthday next week?"
I looked at her and said, "But how is that possible? I just had a birthday not long ago."
"That was 12 months ago now you're facing another birthday." She looked at me and laughed.
I had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that I was having another birthday. Why is it that birthdays come so fast the older you get?
When I was young, I could hardly wait for my birthday. When you're young, a birthday means a whole lot more than when you get older.
I remember my 16th birthday; I was thrilled because I could now get my driver's license.
I looked back and thought of all my birthdays and what they meant to me. It wasn't until a few years ago I realized that having a birthday meant you were one year older. Getting older has many positive aspects, but it also has some less desirable aspects.
Two days after my birthday The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage has her birthday. If my birthday was not two days before hers, I probably would never remember when her birthday was. Because she reminded me of my birthday by giving me a birthday card and gift, I remember her birthday was in two days.
I married the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage for many reasons. The best part of marrying her was that her birthday was two days after mine. That would enable me to keep up with my birthday.
One thing I have learned in my marriage is that women, especially wives, remember birthdays. She knows every birthday of every person on her side of the family, as well as all of our kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. I don't know how she can remember all those birthdays, but she does, and that's a good thing.
With another candle on my birthday cake, I now celebrate the fact that I am older today than yesterday. That has some benefits associated with it. I just can't think of any.
The older I get, the less I can remember things. It's interesting; I can remember things that happened in my childhood, but who's to say they actually did? When you get old, you can do that sort of thing, and nobody is going to correct you. I make up my memories when I need to know them.
The best thing about my birthday being two days ahead of hers is that once my birthday is celebrated, I can then go out the next day and get a birthday card and present for The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. If it were the other way around, she would never get a birthday present on time from me.
I have a hard time remembering my age.
I checked my driver's license to find out how old I am this year. I never thought I would reach 74 years of age. My father was 78 when he died. In September, my mother will turn 95. I may have inherited my father's age or my mother's age. Only time will tell.
Getting old is a blessing in many ways. One of the blessings is memory failure. There are some things that I don't want to remember, and at my age, I'm not able to.
At my age, I have discovered that the only important thing is today. Not yesterday or tomorrow, but today.
I was reminded of one of my favorite Bible verses. “This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it” (Psalm 118:24).
I can’t change yesterday or predict tomorrow, but I can rejoice in Today.