2012 is proving to be a rough year for the icons of my youth....Robin Gibb, Donna Summer, Goober Pyle (yes, I know that's not his real name), Dick Clark, Mike Wallace, Earl Scruggs, Debbie Reynolds, Davy Jones, Epstein from Welcome Back Kotter. I'm sure there are probably more but these names stand out to me. They are names I watched, listened to or were at least prominent enough their names became associated with my childhood.
I'm not really much of a star watcher. Heck, I'm lucky if I can remember whether I've seen a movie or not, let alone who starred in it. I know songs but can rarely name the singer/band. Simply put, I just don't care enough to remember that kind of stuff. Celebrities aren't important to me.
So, why bring it up at all? Because I'm seeing my childhood die off. Because each time someone from my childhood dies it serves as a reminder that I'm getting older, that 50 is just around the corner. It's my childhood disappearing little by little. Yes, a lot of these people were a good deal older than me but it's still a bit unsettling.
There is an up side though. Each time one of these people die it reminds me to take a look at where I am in life. It serves as a gentle reminder that I still have things I want to accomplish, things I want to experience. I may not live long enough to get them all done but I can live my life to the fullest now to make my dreams come true. I may not be promised tomorrow but I'm not dead yet.
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