I’ll be the first to admit I’m not a numbers guy. Throughout my years as a student, I barely survived any subjects involving numbers! Yet there’s something about turning 55 years old this week that’s got me pretty excited!
Let me see if by the end of this post I’ll have figured out why.
Birthdays? Not My Thang
For the longest time I’ve been telling my wife and kids I don’t really want to celebrate my birthdays.
As I age, birthdays feel like noisy alarm clocks that remind me I’m a year older every year. Who wants that kind of reminder right? I’ll rather be reminded I’ve a fat pay cheque waiting for me. Or I’m going to meet an old buddy for lunch. Or school holidays are over and I needn’t scratch my head anymore about what to do, cos my kids are back in school! (If you’re reading this some day my sons, I apologise! But in my defence, planning for the holidays can be quite a headache for a parent, ok?)
Besides, I grew up in a family that rarely celebrates or even remembers one another’s birthdays. Maybe because back in the 1970s, when I was born, we were considered quite a large family. Two parents, plus 5 children with ages that spread over 15 or more years. Even if we had celebrated, it was probably just for the first few years of the first couple of kids. After that, who has the time and energy to keep the celebrations going all the way to me, the 5th and final kid?
Which perhaps to some, like my spouse’s side of the family that celebrate birthdays annually like it’s a national holiday, seems completely dysfunctional!
To that I say, but always carefully and under my breath so they don’t hear, to each (family) their own.
Don’t Ask Me Why But I Love The 5 In 55!
Now, I know I said at the start of this post I’m no numbers guy. But there is one number that has always caught my eye.
It’s the number 5.
How so?
Well, first of all, I already mentioned that, growing up, there were 5 children in my family. And I was #5, the youngest of them all.
Secondly, my age sits nicely with the year because we share the same last digit. So in 1975, I was 5. In 1995 I was 25. And now in 2025, I’m 55.
Thirdly, every child everywhere will learn the infinite universe of numbers by first encountering these: 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5. When they reach the number 10, they often return to number 1 again. Pretty soon they realise that 5 (or more precisely 5.5) sits nicely in the middle, cos it’s the halfway point between 1 and 10.
Between start and end.
Between nothing and everything that’s perfection (as in the “Perfect 10”).
In short, 5 is pretty much the middleman in every land! How likeable is that right?!
And for me, to now have not one but two of them in my age for the next 365 days (see, that has a 5 too), it’s like that which caught my childhood eye has returned. And this time, it’s brought a twin along.
Double the fun for me!
At 55, I’m Between Sunrise And Sunset
On a more serious note, I believe turning 55 this year means I’m between sunrise and sunset.
I’m turning a corner of life, and firmly moving along the road towards my twilight years. In fact, you can say I’m literally in between the start and end of my life. (Well, maybe a bit closer to the latter, since I can’t see myself living up to 55 x 2=110 years of age!)
Turning 55 now means I’m coming more and more into my own identity. I see myself now being so much more centred and settled into my own skin. More comfortable with who I am and who I want to be. No more apologies or deprecating of self. Being more assured that I’m enough, and ignoring what others think or say about me. Especially detractors and diminishers (as celebrated author and NYT commentator David Brooks calls those who put others down in his book How To Know A Person)
Also, at 55, I’m more certain than before what I want and, even more importantly, what I don’t want. I don’t have to say “Yes” to everything or every request any more, even if it means I risk offending family members and friends. In fact, learning to say “No” more assertively is now something I can do more of, and others around me will see that I’m not to be messed with!
Such a contrast from my younger years. Then, I was so afraid of offending or making the wrong moves, be it in love, career or family.
Being More Thankful
I’m also well aware I’ve much more to be thankful for now.
Having known peers and younger folks who have tragically passed on before even hitting the big 5-0, I know everyday of these past 55 years that I get to wake up alive in the morning is not to be taken lightly.
With this gift of life then comes the realisation that my continued existence needs to be more purposeful. I need to pursue or forge meaning in any and everything I undertake hereon. This was probably what famed Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl was trying to bring across to readers when he wrote Man’s Search For Meaning.
For now, that life purpose for me is in writing, educating, advocating for special needs and parenting, as well as loving and serving both my family and the community of dads I’ve come to know and treasure.
Recalling what I wrote in the previous four entries for this very mini-series, I seem to be on a consistent trajectory.
Good.
May it continue to be so for the rest of my 50s! (Ahhh so this is why I’m excited to turn 55!)
And to you my faithful reader, please wish me well on this, my still raw and unfinished journey, ok?
My heartfelt thanks.
[By the way, did you notice today’s date and the number of this post? Hmmm…on second thought, maybe I’m a numbers guy after all!]
