You know the Beatles song. We've all sung it. And laughed.
Now, of course, some of us are actually living it. Living past it, in fact. It happened to me this week. I'm now officially older than the John Lennon / Paul McCartney "When I'm Sixty-Four."
This week I turned sixty-five years old. Sixty-five. Official retirement age. No longer older middle aged. I've officially moved into "old."
Old. O L D. Hard to wrap one's head around that concept. O L D.
I remember quite clearly in 1968 when I first signed on for a tax shelter -- to come due in the very distant future of 2011, when I would turn the ancient age of -- dear lord -- 65. I simply couldn't fathom just how far away 2011 actually was.
The 40+ years since I first thought about turning 65 have simply flown by in a nanosecond. Once I was 21 and thinking I'd never actually see the year 2011 -- and suddenly this week, I turned 65 years old. How did that happen to me?
Shocking. Utterly shocking that I could live to be THIS old.
Hubby, thankfully, was willing to feed me for at least another year. I got this for my birthday.