Fourty

Well... it finally happened. I'm fourty years old now. Not that I care too much, but I know it's supposed to be a milestone or something like that.

Once again, I got lots of presents, and breakfast in bed. My brother and his family had given me the gift when I left five days ago, with the condition that I wouldn't open it until today. It was great: I got a beautiful robe and a pair of slippers. When I phoned to thank him, he said "yeah, we couldn't find a cane anywhere". The bastard.

Anyhoo, it was a great day, and I don't really care about the fact that I've lived 0.5 of my life as of today.

"Starting tomorrow, I'll begin to live half of my life; starting tomorrow, I'll begin to live half of my death"

(A bad translation of a fine song by Alberto Cortez)

Once thing I know for sure: within a year and a half I have lost my father, turned 40, and will have my youngest daughter going to school already. To me, THAT is the definition of 'getting old'.

--Gabriel

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