While watching pro-sports, like the NFL, I realized that any players my age are "super old" and many are retiring. It's odd to think that Peyton Manning and I would have graduated high school together. I'm technically 3 months older, but we don't need to focus on that. Pretty soon, there won't be anyone "my age" left in professional sports.
And then, spilling across my Facebook feed is the sad news that Dolores O'Riordan from The Cranberries died suddenly. She was 46.
I remember when The Cranberries burst onto the scene. I was in high school. It never occurred to me that the lead singer was relatively close in age to me, about the same age as my oldest brother. That news, along with the news of her death, is hard to process.
There are days when I feel old beyond my years. There are days when I simply cannot even entertain the fact that I'm middle-aged (there, I said it). More and more, my friends and I are having conversations of life-altering illness and declining health. People are getting sick and not recovering. It's weird to think I'm entering into a phase of life where accidents aren't the leading cause of death. My peer group is tossing about words like EKG and screening and bifocals and arthritis and ... colonoscopy.
But still, I'm blessed with another day on this earth, with another chance to watch Tom Brady (just a year younger than me) play in another football game. I'll ignore the chink in my neck and the ache in my hip and be thankful that I'm still drawing breath.