Mid Life Crisis?

I’m 48 in a fortnight.

It’s a scary thought.

At 48 my Dad had served in the army on “mop-up” operations around the Med after the war, been married twice, emigrated with us in tow to Oz and been in a near fatal accident which has left him deaf and with some paralysis.

He still has his sense of humour though.

At 48 (nearly) I’ve been a teacher, charity worker, administrator, operations/service manager, and now do some hours in a supermarket. I’ve been married for 13 years this November and have fathered 4 children (that I know of lol).

A few weeks ago my younger brother had a heart attack and is now recovering slowly. This has reminded me of my own mortality. Something which has chilled me to the bone, especially with a young family to care for.

I know I’m ageing better than my peers, judging by their facebook profile pictures anyway. I give blood a few times a year and have never been refused in 30 years. Last year I had a lump removed from my throat which I’ve been told was a warty growth and not “sinister”.

Today Gill took me to a tattoo parlour to choose my birthday present. I’ve chosen to have portraits of my kids across my shoulders and back. I need to add Cerys to the list of scrolls on my left upper arm and am eyeing up a St George killing the dragon “born British but English by the Grace of God”.

I know it’s not a big motor bike as is the norm for MLC sufferers. But it is a big step.

I don’t wander around with my shirt off so Gill and the girls are the only ones who’ll see them.

So is it a mid life crisis?

Don’t know.