It's another age moment.

They seem to be coming fast and furious these days.

For those of you who may remember, I was once married for about two blinks of one eye when I was QUITE young...I can't remember if my first husband was four or five years older...now that I think about it, it might have even been six. No...no...I think it was four...see? The memory thing is an age thing...but what's really an age thing is realizing that my first husband is looking at fifty. (Either this summer or the next...I really should check that for sanity's sake)

Okay, let's take a moment. The first man I was married to, who was older than me but not by loads...that everyone used to ask me if he had graduated high school yet (oy, what a baby face he had!)...long, lean, boyish charm...is pushing 50. 50.

Fifty.

Half of one hundred.

I think I need to sit down.

Oh, I already am.

See? There's that impending doom of memory loss again.

It's just weird, isn't it? To watch the people around you get older and never feel that you're aging with them. Then one day you start to realize that they're actually older and *gasp* so are you. How did that happen? When did that happen? Don't I have to sign a release form for that or something?

Fifty.

It's pretty amazing. And really, I'd like credit for his reaching such a milestone. If he'd stayed married to me, surely it would have been an early grave for the poor kid. Kid! He's almost fifty!!!!

I think I need to go sit down in my automatic recliner and plug into my oxygen machine. This is all too much for my heart.