One Year Older And Closer To Death

Soon to be upon us is the one time of year when everyone pretends to be Irish just for the perks - namely the green beer and the pinching. For me, of course, it is also a reminder that I am dying. Yes, the doctors give me only another 50-60 years, barring any unforeseen occurrences. I know it's tragic, but I have comes to terms with it.

Thinking about birthdays is a funny thing. When you're young it's all about the presents or the party. Kids lose sleep over what they're going to get or whose going to be at their bash. When you're older you just hope that you have some really good friends and loved ones to spend some time with. When you're even older you just hope that people remember your birthday at all (or remember to forget depending on your surliness quotient). When you're older than that you just hope that you remember your own birthday. And when you're really, really old you just hope that All Bran doesn't ever go out of style or that they would at least make it into a liquid version (mmmmmmm.....).