“When I’m 64”
“When I get older losing my hair
Many years from now
Will you still be sending me a Valentine
Birthday greetings bottle of wine
If I'd been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four
You'll be older too
And if you say the word
I could stay with you
I could be handy, mending a fuse
When your lights have gone
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings go for a ride
Doing the garden, digging the weeds
Who could ask for more
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four
Every summer we can rent a cottage
In the Isle of Wight, if it's not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera, Chuck and Dave
Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away
Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four”
Well, I now know the answer to the question the Beatles (actually “The Silver Beetles”) asked in that song. And the answer is ,”Yes”! I will need you …and feed you…when you’re 64, Terry.
Terry turned 64 and he is a young 64 and not losing much hair.ha ha. After celebrating his father’s 90th the day before, it was time to go into birthday mode once again the next day for Terry.
It was all about the food as we went to a lovely birthday lunch at the new Harbour House restaurant with Terry’s parents and his sisters, Sherry and Laurie.
And then after a wonderful afternoon tea and sweets with my parents in the afternoon, we went for an incredible home cooked meal at my sister, Pam’s, for dinner.
It is so lovely to be near our dear families for both of these special birthdays, a true blessing. After partaking in that delicious (ribs, corn on the cob, biscuits, and salad) dinner (Thanks again, Pamela!) , petting their dog, Ben, and hugging their daughter, Alaina, we brought Pam’s homemade cherry trifle over to Terry’s parents for a “Wizard” night of cards for them, Pam and Dave, and ourselves.
Happy birthday, my dear husband. I need you. We fed you. You’re sixty four!