Well, David B. Grinberg, I could write a book on this topic — and maybe I’ll chime in on it somewhere here on social media.

When I was about 15, I realized — realized it for real in my heart and mind — that I would actually die someday. I remember wondering how long I would live and what it would be like to not be here anymore. A terrifying thought for a teenager, right?

Fast-forward to my current age of 72, and I realize the privilege of birthdays.

I agree that I don’t want or need a public celebration, that what I want is heartfelt congrats from those who know me, who like and love me, and who remember it’s my birthday.

You are just a couple of years older than my oldest kid! I know I thought 50 was the end of the world, but guess what? It’s not unless you want it to be, and I think from what I read here and other places, you don’t want it to be!

Good for you!

And good for all of us who are that much older than you are right now, and want to stay relevant and be interesting and useful — and loved — for many decades to come. Age is NOT just a number — there are mornings when I wake up after having had a garden-working day that my body not-so-gently reminds me that I. AM. NOT. 30. OR. 40. OR. EVEN. 50. ANYMORE.

But you know what, David? That’s OK! Old age is a privilege not given to everyone, and I’ll take every day that I get, every day that my mind and body work, every day that I can help others with what I do as an editor, every day that I am full of gratitude for life giving me a brain, a body, and an eager spirit to live to the max.

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to YOU, dear David B. Grinberg! Happy birthday to you!