It was just another morning of letting the dogs out and cleaning up after them, when a neighbor passer-by surprised me by wishing a “Happy 4th.” Days are so routine in retirement that I often forget things like this, especially after a sleepless night. I woke up stiff and sore, having completely forgotten that we were headed to one of the neighborhood pools later this morning for sunshine, live music, and hot dogs. It will be crowded, but my wife will save me a chair while I finish my workout.  Later, we’ll catch the Englewood Fireworks down by the beach. It will be a Happy 4th!

As I was tossing and turning last night, my thoughts were on my son’s upcoming 50th birthday. Having a child that old was certainly a reminder of my own mortality. I celebrated my 50th with Eeyore at Disney World’s Crystal Palace – my son visited with a friend. My 40th was spent in Hawaii, the last hurrah of my first marriage. Soon after, I was divorced and as a result, special occasions like his birthday can be awkward because we should be honoring him together. Instead, it will probably be just another day. I don’t know yet if there is a plan to get together with the grandkids for cake and presents, but his mother will likely be miles away, back in Indiana. If she does decide to visit, I’ll keep my distance, a casualty after 27-years of marriage and a bitter parting. My son’s birthday wish will probably be that it never happened, but he can clearly see that I am much happier these days. 

I’m in the process of writing a poem for the 70th birthday party of eight former work collogues. The event in Indianapolis at a bar called the Mousetrap will be called “Indy Ad Chicks and Two Dicks.” One of them sadly just lost her husband to a heart attack. It could have been me, fortunate to have caught my heart issues and had them repaired. My doctor keeps reminding me that I was literally a “time bomb,” even though I didn’t really feel the effects. Now, I am feeling the after-effects while trying to get back in shape. For the first time, I’ll likely publicly reveal my scars at the pool today, now that it’s been nearly six months since the operation. It will take another six months to get back to “normal.”

I guess that it’s all of these things converging together, coupled with a stubborn bladder, that keeps me awake at night. I’ll also soon be seventy-three, married for another 25-years, and unable to attend my 55th high school reunion (I did buy the commemorative mug), more major reminders of my mortality. I’m indeed lucky to be alive, living in sunny Florida, and surrounded by a loving wife and three grandkids, after traveling the world.

I had a son relatively early in life, giving me freedom from parental responsibilities at age 50. On the other hand, he still has two teenagers and a six-year-old living with him, and a wife in medical school. Needless to say, they won’t be traveling to Hawaii to blow out his candles, although we all did get together a few weeks ago at Disney World. Happy Birthday, dear son, I hope you enjoy the next twenty-some years of freedom as I have! Thanks to those who served and gave their lives to make it possible!

Here’s to wishing you all a Happy 4th!