I usually write about "the turn" around my birthday -- the day when signs of fall become unmistakable and Minnesotans begin to think about planning for the long winter, now not so far in the future. This time last year I noted the shocking reality of waking up in my mid-seventies, maybe not yet "elderly", defined by some researchers as people who have a statistical 4% chance of dying within a year. This actuarial table seems to give me less than a 3% chance of not making another year, so I guess I can stay off the "elderly" list on this, my 75th birthday.
Coincidentally, today's reading from St. Luke's Gospel reminds us to be vigilant and "prepared". The number 75 is certainly sobering, but it is one that fills me with awe (how the hell did I get this old?) and gratitude (how did I get so lucky?). As my friends and I hit the three-quarter century mark, I think of those who haven't made it this far. Some, like several childhood classmates, never even reached adulthood. Others died in middle age, but here I am, not too decrepit yet, happy at the desk in my newly re-arranged office, looking out at my flowers and quiet street beyond. I feel pretty good despite despite the political and social turmoil that surrounds me.
I begin the next quarter-century determined to be prepared but live joyfully, not overly preoccupied with myself and petty concerns.Happy Birthday to me, to friends born on August 10th, and to all members of the 75th Anniversary Class of 2025.
