Thursday, September 4, 2008

Time Marches On. And On.

I had a birthday last week but I'm OK now.

Until last Wednesday I hadn't been bothered by a birthday since the year I turned 35. Thirty-Five. I realized I was halfway through my thirties and I cried and cried. I'm from the generation that coined the phrase "Never trust anyone over thirty." Probably most of you don't even remember that but it seemed very profound at the time.

After that I got ok with getting older. You're only as old as you feel, 50 is the new 40, 60 is the new 50, blah blah blah. But this birthday was a milestone and it felt weird. I think of myself as middle aged and I'm not, not any more. I have grandchildren. And two great grandchildren.This picture was taken two years ago. Five generations. We didn't line up right as I should be next to my mother but I'm in the middle. In twenty years I'll be at the end of the line.

That's a scary.


The Country Experience said...

Wait a minute! Five generations? There are some seriously kind genes involved.

Patsy said...

Thanks, I needed that.

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