Fifty

A few weeks ago, I turned the ripe old age of fifty. Leading up to the actual birthday I would occasionally ponder 'the meaning' of such a significant birthday. Why is it significant? Fifty is just some number, divisible by five and ten

Does it mark the half way point of life? Statistically, I probably reached my half way point more than ten years ago.

AARP was gracious enough to offer me membership. Now I get lots of advertisements for medicare supplemental insurance, medical devices, and independent living facilities.

Other than that, do I get any benefit from turning 50? Not really. It just means I'm that much closer to retirement.

One of the things that I've noticed in my aging ruminations. I've looked around at my neighbors and younger friends. From my perspective, their lives remind me of busy busy bees or ants. Running here, running there. Pursuing mates. Shepherding children to activities. Striving in their careers. I'm not judging them. I'm just so glad to be passed all that. I've met all those goals that I cared to. What are my goals now?

I want to retire before I'm too broken to enjoy my leisure. I have no great aspirations for traveling the world or becoming some super charged senior volunteer. I just want to live a quiet existence where I can read, learn, and observe the world, and hopefully enjoy the company of good friends. It may sound boring to many, but to me it sounds like heaven.