Up here for the summer in Pennsylvania with my ex at the country home we co-own, l recently visited my sister and brother-in-law on Long Island and their adult sons, my nephews who live nearby their mom and dad, and my three grandnephews. To get there, l opted for mass transit and took Metro North from Port Jervis, a town just across the border in New York State, and then the Long lsland Railroad from Manhattan to Port Jefferson in Suffolk County. The visit was bittersweet since my sister is facing major lung cancer surgery in August.
Now my Big Seven-O birthday had been on July 8th, but it wasn’t till l had returned from my visit with Gina and Dennis that l received a birthday card from them that had been sent out days before my birthday but because of the forwarding of my mail from Fort Lauderdale had just gotten to me.
Most congratulatory greeting cards are sappy and saccharine but this one, well it was as if either my sister or the copywriter for Gibson Cards had read my brain:
“70 is all about doing it your way and getting away with it.
70 is the wisdom you’ve gained from experience, and the respect you’ve earned from living real life.
70 means you have an amazing story to tell, filled with places you’ve seen, the people you love, and the ways you’ve made a difference.
70 means you’re better than ever.”
Couldn’t have said it better myself.
Or as one buddy pointed out, “You’re the only guy l know who says it like it is and doesn’t care what people think.”