When I was younger, some of my peers called their fathers their “old man.”
As in, my old man won’t let me go out Saturday night if the party includes both boys and girls. As some of those girls grew into datable chicks who liked to date tough boys, those tough girls called their boyfriends and lovers their “old man.” None of the men they referred to were really old at all. I always considered both of those uses of the term “old man” (used as nouns) disrespectful. I didn’t think much of the people who used what I thought were derogatory terms or of the relationships these people must have had with each other.
This weekend, I had the honor and privilege of celebrating the birthday of my very own “old man” (used as adjectives). Understand, please, that calling Randy “my old man” is neither derogatory nor disrespectful because at 71, Randy is both a man, and old. We’re big on truth and honesty in our house so he shouldn’t be offended in the least by this term.
It’s unbelievable how fast the years have flown by.
Years ago I picked up a greeting card that left a long-lasting impression on me. The front featured a photo of a nun who looked to be nearing 100 years old playing paddleball with a huge smile on her face. The inside of the card said, “If you didn’t know how old you are, how old would you be?”
That’s true, isn’t it? Randy and I both feel like we’re still in our 40s. While there are the occasional physical aches and pains that remind us that our 40s were several decades ago, mentally and emotionally we love waking up every morning full of the anticipation of having complete control over all our time. 68andCounting.com’s tagline claims that True Wealth is Having Control Over Your Own Time. We are rich indeed.
Randy has grown over those years into a talented, sensitive, caring, emotionally mature, godly man who strives every day to be a better husband and worthy human being. He’s a handy man who can fix almost anything, a creative man who loves to invent and fabricate useful and time saving devices, an intelligent man who would rather read and learn than watch mindless television, a passionate man who spends his time helping others tell stories about the great works God does in their lives.
Randy’s not afraid to apologize when it’s necessary or patiently teach when it’s appropriate. He laughs easily and often, and cheers for underdogs at every opportunity (except when they’re playing the Packers). He loves nothing more than to be able to lift up and encourage anyone who needs it. He’s a bit of a pack rat, though he’s trying to break that tendency. He works hard to keep our outdoor living area clean and pleasant and a great place to be every day. He vacuums our house often.
In fact, he works hard at lots of things that make our lives better. This week, while the master bedroom is mostly torn apart to the exterior walls and the studs he’s been installing new lighting and temporary clothes poles, deconstructing our headboard and rebuilding it into something that better matches the rest of the bedroom furniture, and keeping up with his much more successful than mine blog.
I’m so proud of my old man. Randy has grown in ways that honestly surprised me over the years. My impressions of him have changed so much during our marriage. He’s smarter than I ever gave him credit for. He’s more thoughtful and kind than I ever gave him credit for. He’s more clever than I ever gave him credit for, and he’d been the most supportive life partner that I could ever have imagined I’d have.
They say, when you get married, one of four things happen, three of which are not particularly good for the long-term health of the union. Either the man can grow and not the woman, the woman can grow and not the man, the man and woman can grow apart, or the man and woman can grow together. We’ve been blessed beyond measure to fall into that last category. And this year we’ll celebrate our 48th wedding anniversary.
I don’t want to get too sappy here, as this started out primarily about a post about what we consider old. So let me just say one more thing. It’s so nice for us to have lived long enough to be able to claim senior discounts, and even better that we’ve persevered enough to claim them together.
And as we are learning more every day, the best is yet to come!
Happy Birthday, Randy, my very own, certifiable old man.
P.S. I’ll never again call him my old man when talking about him to anyone, especially when I remember that if I do, he’s likely to call me his old lady. We all know I’m no lady.
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