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Mike is graduating next week, Becca turned 13 last week, Joey is probably graduating at the end of this year and I’m turning 50 next year. All of that has been playing havoc on my emotions this past week.

My dad died when he was 57. My kids were still relatively young and he never even got to meet my brother’s kids. My parents were both 47 when Mike was born and I’m 48 now.

I talk about grandchildren sometimes but I’m not in any rush for Mike or even Joey to start procreating. They need to do what is best for them. The way they talk though, even Becca, it will be a very long time, if ever, that I get grand kids.

I have a friend who has a baby who turns one soon. Emma is almost walking and makes everybody who is around her just fill up with joy. I do miss having little ones around. Plus I’m very interested to see my kids as parents.

I know the age of my father at his death doesn’t mean I’ll go then too. We’re very different people. He smoked, ate lousy and didn’t take very good care of himself. I eat better now, exercise now and don’t smoke, although I was subject to second-hand smoke for over 20 years. Always have wondered what damage that did.

Dying doesn’t scare me. Not living enough bothers me though. Not sure I even really know what that means any more but we’ll see.

Maybe it’s time to start a bucket list.

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