Something gets lost in birthday celebrations between 8-80. Anticipation can turn to dread. Excitement can fade. Parties can seem self-indulgent and contrived.
My husband turns 80 tomorrow. To say that he’s not happy about it is an understatement. If our family had permitted it, he would ignore the changing of the decade. But we all concluded easily that he must celebrate and that we must unite behind the celebration.
He put me off more easily than he could our daughters. I soon gave up the challenge of getting him to yes. Our daughters seemed not to have too hard of a time getting him to agree to something “small.” Thankfully, they took over the planning and he cooperated. He likes to make them happy.
I’ve had a small journey of my own wrapping my head around the reality of my husband becoming 80. Despite all the euphemisms and nonsense such as The Golden years, You’re only as old as you think you are and Just like fine wine, you grow better with the years.
I’m hoping this experience will be good preparation for me when I round the corner myself in a few short years. I will want to celebrate. Maybe if I start dieting now, I’ll be able to wear a size 8 dress and everyone will remark, You don’t LOOK 80! Continue reading “the Big Eight Oh!”