My BFF Paul who you all know about but most never met, because you won’t get teamspeak3 and join us in the channel, has been four months older than me ever since we met. Naturally I use that to aggravate him, after all I will never be as old as Paul.
I have spent half my life with him. After looking at several FB posts that FB made on my page, I see now that I have known many more on FB and my website for three or more years, and I have readers that have been following for nearly ten years.
Yet here I am.
I was told when I was seventeen I wouldn’t live another three years. I was even on hospice, and to give credit where it was due, it was Paul that gave me strength while everyone else was sucking the life out of me.
Okay, enough of Paul we can’t have him crying now can we. He is a softy. So what is this post all about?
Well it is about age. I thought I mentioned that in my first paragraph. You see, I never expected to reach twenty-one, and each day I thank the Creator for another day. Yet when I turned twenty-five, to me that was amazing. It was also scary. One quarter of a century old. Jeez how time flies.
On this day I turned twenty-six. Now I am not trying to slam anyone here because of age, but I remember when I was twelve I thought Paul was way old at thirteen. Someone in their twenties was ancient, and a grandma or grandpa, well let’s just say that a twelve year old thinks their parents were born before time, if you get my drift.
To make matters worse, or better, I am not sure yet, someone I know is much older than I am, called me Mr. Meggs in a review of Grapes of Rome. I freaked out, yet I realized that someplace in this life, in this time, I have actually come of age… let’s face it, in my twelve year old mind I AM OLD!