"Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four?" Ever since my last birthday those words have been running through my mind.
It seems almost impossible to have gotten to this age so quickly. Just yesterday I was 18, listening to Paul McCartney sing those words (who by the way was a teenager when he wrote them and 24 when the song was recorded) and thinking that 64 was a very, very, very long way off.
I mean, really. My mom wasn't even 50 yet when the song hit the charts and I thought she was old.
No way could my teenage self ever imagine what it would feel like. In fact, I thought I might need someone to feed me by the time I reached my 60s!
But here I am. And let me tell you, it's not at all what I expected.
Back in those days, I thought a microwave was totally bitchin'. Hot food in minutes! Who knew this invention would be drawfed by the digital revolution?
Who would ever have imagined that we would be able to look at the person on the other end of a phone call? And send messages with real words (if you can call texting that) through hand held devices?
Back in those days, I thought that by 64 I would need to rest more. After all, I would be one of those "senior" citizens like my grandfather who napped all the time.
But I'm not napping and I'm definitely not sitting by the fireside knitting.
I still have lots of energy. Okay -- so I can only do half as many sit-ups as when I was younger. But I'm still sitting up.
I have way more hair than one person needs -- my plumber, aka my husband, will attest to that. I don't have to pluck my eyebrows anymore. But I do have to pluck my chin. However, I can't see those hairs so I rely on those close to me to let me know when they get too long.
And mentally? Well, I do have those senior moments when I can't remember why I walked into my bedroom with my vibrator. I get sentimental during telephone commercials. And tears often cloud my vision when I watch my own version of "Vera, Chuck and Dave" as each day they grow into who they are becoming.
Unlike Paul who sadly lost his soul mate, I'm still married to mine. Some days he feels more like a weight on my soul, than the other half of it, but after 33 years, every day can't be all sunshine and happiness.
Yes, life isn't exactly what I expected it to be back in those days when Paul's voice boomed into my bedroom from my record player.
It's even better.