50 Down, 50 To Go

June 14, 2017

There are a lot of people, women in particular, who have a funny sort of relationship with their birthdays.  Like a number of other women I know, my mother celebrated her 29^th birthday several times from—well, her 29^th birthday—until she passed away at 29 (plus 33).  Honestly, I’ve never really understood the trepidation with which Mom approached that annual date on the calendar.  I love my birthday, and I’ve never been shy about proclaiming my age.  It’s a number, after all—a marker indicating another year of family, friends, laughter, experiences—both good and bad, and insights.  And, as the saying goes, having another birthday certainly beats the alternative of not having another birthday.

So here I am at 50.  The way I see it, I’m halfway through this life. (I’m an overachiever—I’m planning to live to the century mark.)  I used to think 50 was old, but it really is true that old age is way more about a state of mind than the year you were born.  Yes, I’m a little (a lot) softer and squishier than I used to be, and there are wrinkles and hairs where there didn’t used to be any.  And you know how some young adults outgrow the awkward phase and develop into stunning beauties? I think I’ll stop holding my breath for that now.  That’s okay though;  I don’t feel old, and I think it’ll be a long time before I hit that mark.  What keeps you young is watching your children grow and seeing them build their own futures and families, laughing and loving with friends, traveling and seeking out new adventures, continuing to read and learn, making new connections and seeking new perspectives.  I’ve got lots of places to go, books to read, and people to love in the next 50 years.  Starting right now.  Here’s to the next leg of the journey!