“ Birthdays are good for you. Statistics show that people who have the most live the longest.” Anonymous.

Well, there it goes. One more slow journey around the sun under my belt.

Another year older but probably not a whole lot wiser.

This one was not a milestone. It didn’t end in zero or five so it was no big deal. In a few years the next milestone one will end in zero and somebody better throw me one boy howdy of a party when that one arrives. Family, if yall are reading, you’re on notice.

Being a year older doesn’t bother me in the least. Since my semiretirement from law enforcement I’ve spent the past several years not being shot at, punched, stabbed, spit on, t-boned by drunk drivers, sued or having my nearly perfect reports scrutinized by severely imperfect, neurotic rookie sergeants.

The absence of those things makes life a tad less stressful.

The highlights of my year begin and end, of course, with my children.

My son returned from his latest, and final, overseas deployment with his Marine unit. Two tours to the Middle East and home without a scratch.

Thank you Lord.

It’s hard getting my whole crew together but I was fortunate to get to see some of the kids at Thanksgiving and the others at Christmas.

They all came when Mama was leaving us. It was bittersweet but anytime with my brood is better than time away from them.

Since my last birthday I got to see my granddaughter, The Princess Of The Plains, several times. I taught her to say Granddaddy and she said it dozens of times though nobody else could decipher it but me. That’s okay. She and I know. I took her to the Alamo since she is, for better or for worse, a native Texan. I also took her on her first trip to Cabela’s where she helped me pick out a great pair of boots. Okay, she slept through it, but she seemed to be enjoying herself.

One of the richest blessings at any age is having a grandchild.

Make that grandchildren.

The without a doubt, no question about it, unequivocally best news I’ve gotten in the weeks leading up to this birthday was learning that my next grandbaby will be a boy. I already possess the sweetest, smartest and prettiest granddaughter in the universe and now I have no doubt that my grandson will be God’s gift to the world too.

No doubt.

He’ll be the first boy of his generation in my little sub-clan, the other four all being drop dead gorgeous girlie girls.

The family name continues for at least one more generation.

A month or so after my last birthday I decided that it was time to purchase a real suit, something I hadn’t done for years. I have to admit I looked pretty dadgum good in it. I bought it for the press convention but I immediately designated it my “wedding and funeral duds”.

I wore it nine times over the year, sadly, only once to a wedding. I said goodbye to way too many loved ones and friends this year. I guess that comes with age too.

But, overall, it was a good year.

I capped it off with an early trip to the beach the week of my birthday. It was a last minute thing so I didn’t have time to lose a couple of tons before I got to the shore and staked out my bit of sand.

The weather was perfect and the sun was good. I laid on my back for a while and then decided to bake the other side so I rolled over. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable and I joked with my group that I should dig a hole under me for my belly so I could lay flat.

“ There’s not a backhoe around here big enough for that job,” chirped one of my so-called “friends”.

I’d have been offended except I was laughing too hard.

She nailed me good.

The birthday itself fell on Saturday and we marked it with a get together of kin and friends. We met at a little joint down by the river that is fast becoming the family gathering spot. I didn’t have to pay for anything and a cousin brought me a cutting from my long gone Grandma’s red honeysuckle vine.

It was perfect.

So, one more solar orbit is over and a new one begins.

I’m hoping that this year brings fewer funerals and more weddings where I can wear my suit, as long as I’m not the honored guest at either of those events.

Not just yet.

Don Lively is a retired police officer and freelance writer. He lives in Shell Bluff. Email Don at Livelycolo@aol.com.