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age old reality

May 18, 2011

I am not usually bothered by my age.  I enjoyed turning thirty, and the following year thirty-one was even better.  Even the prospect of thirty-two has little effect on me.  But last week when I realized that my little brother would be turning thirty today, my stomach got all queasy and I felt a little light-headed.  (Hold on… I [breathe in] need to take a moment [breathe out… s..l..o..w..l..y..] to compose myself.)  My age never bothers me, so why does his age have me all worked up?  It’s just like the boy to torment me with little effort.  [gulp]  I suppose I can’t call him ‘the boy’ anymore now that he is thirty.  

The reality that I am old enough to have a younger brother old enough to be thirty was a bit of a shock. [breathe… breathe…]  I’ll get over it by-and-by… Knowing my luck it will be right before the next sibling turns thirty.  [Whoa.  I’m gonna have to brace myself for that one!]

Charles, congrats on making it to thirty without putting one of your sisters in a straightjacket.  (And NO that doesn’t mean you should try harder over the next thirty years!)  I really am proud of what you’ve accomplished in your thirty years.  I know the next thirty will be even better!  I love you more than words can say and more than I care to admit on some days. :)  Happy birthday, little brother.

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