By kiki
December 13, 2016, marks another milestone in my life journey; my 80th birthday. I keep doing the math, hoping to see a lesser number, but that big 8.0. keeps coming up, so considering the alternative, I will fully embrace it. Below is a brief essay about those 80 years.
I was born at a very young age on a Sunday in 1936 at the Los Angeles County General Hospital, - My parents, Aurelio and Eulalia Baltazar, with my older sister Rachel, lived at the Simons Brickyard at the time (South Montebello). I was so young I don't remember much of those babyhood years. But it must have been fun just hangin' and chillin' around the house for the first 5 years of my journey. Around 1941, or was it 1942? Either way, at the beginning of WWII, I started kindergarten at a segregated school (Vail Elementary). Even though Vail was segregated, it was fun to attend, making the years seem months.
Soon WWII was over, and so were the '40's. And as we entered the '50s, I too entered Montebello Junior High School (1950), And in 1952 I entered Montebello High School. My teen years at Montebello junior and high school were some of my more memorable years - In April of 1954, I met Connie, and on December 13 (my 18th birthday), we were married. Two years after we married, the kids started arriving, and with that, I started transitioning from a teenager to young adulthood. Soon, we were into the 1960s, and I began to see my young adulthood move to older adulthood. But somewhere in between, I got stalled in the process, and I was just kinda drifting, marking time without any great passion for moving forward. It could be that I liked where I was and wanted to stay longer. But time has a way of pushing you on, and in the '70s, with more kids than I could count, I found myself entering middle age. By the '80s and '90s, my youth was just a distant memory.
The '90s were over in a jiffy, and now with grandkids and two or three great-grandkids to go along with my graying hair, I entered, as a retired man, some would say a kept man, and I wouldn't argue with them, the new millennium. So, with the enjoyment of the grand and great-grandkids, the first decade of the new millennium went by fast, but the second decade is like a slow blur because some days I am here, and other days I am with my imaginary friends. In a geriatric stupor...And now, as I travel the last few miles of my life journey, I would like to thank my family and friends who have made my life memorable. Without their love and support, I wouldn't have made it to this ripe old age...Along the way to this ripe old age, I've loved, and I am sure, I was loved by some. I've won a few and lost a few, but in between, I lived life to the fullest. - It has been a long journey and a wonderful experience, and my friends, I've seen a lot, and I've done a lot as I traveled life's roads, yet, I can't say that I've seen and done it all. Life is too complicated to see, and do it all in one lifetime, no matter how long your life is.
Has life been good to me? I have to say yes. I have a loving family and have had 80 years of happiness, and who could ask for more? - Regrets? I have a few, but like the Frank Sinatra song says, "A few, but then again too few to mention" Okay, maybe I do have a minor regret, and it might be a selfish regret on my part: I don't recall ever having a birthday party. I would have loved to have had one, maybe at a very young age, with cake and ice cream, a pinata hanging from our apricot tree, a clown to make me laugh, and perhaps a magician to pull rabbits out of a hat, now that would have been nice. But please don't interpret this as feeling sorry for myself because, like I said, it's just a minor regret, and I am okay with that.
And so now that the sun is setting on me, I wish I am not judged too harshly when judgment day comes around.
On a side note: today is also our 62nd wedding anniversary and the 4th anniversary of my older sister Rachel's death...Happy Anniversary, Babe. And Rachel, R.I.P
The '90s were over in a jiffy, and now with grandkids and two or three great-grandkids to go along with my graying hair, I entered, as a retired man, some would say a kept man, and I wouldn't argue with them, the new millennium. So, with the enjoyment of the grand and great-grandkids, the first decade of the new millennium went by fast, but the second decade is like a slow blur because some days I am here, and other days I am with my imaginary friends. In a geriatric stupor...And now, as I travel the last few miles of my life journey, I would like to thank my family and friends who have made my life memorable. Without their love and support, I wouldn't have made it to this ripe old age...Along the way to this ripe old age, I've loved, and I am sure, I was loved by some. I've won a few and lost a few, but in between, I lived life to the fullest. - It has been a long journey and a wonderful experience, and my friends, I've seen a lot, and I've done a lot as I traveled life's roads, yet, I can't say that I've seen and done it all. Life is too complicated to see, and do it all in one lifetime, no matter how long your life is.
Has life been good to me? I have to say yes. I have a loving family and have had 80 years of happiness, and who could ask for more? - Regrets? I have a few, but like the Frank Sinatra song says, "A few, but then again too few to mention" Okay, maybe I do have a minor regret, and it might be a selfish regret on my part: I don't recall ever having a birthday party. I would have loved to have had one, maybe at a very young age, with cake and ice cream, a pinata hanging from our apricot tree, a clown to make me laugh, and perhaps a magician to pull rabbits out of a hat, now that would have been nice. But please don't interpret this as feeling sorry for myself because, like I said, it's just a minor regret, and I am okay with that.
And so now that the sun is setting on me, I wish I am not judged too harshly when judgment day comes around.
On a side note: today is also our 62nd wedding anniversary and the 4th anniversary of my older sister Rachel's death...Happy Anniversary, Babe. And Rachel, R.I.P
