To my husband’s immense relief, I’m not one to make much ado about birthdays. Most years, it’s just another day with the excuse to enjoy dinner out.
Today, however, I turn 60, and while an arbitrary milestone, there’s no doubting that’s a discernible number of years. Unless you’re a galaxy.
I don’t know what I thought 60 would be like.
Thirty years ago it looked very, very far away and more or less a given.
But at 42 I lost my best friend to breast cancer and that curtain of invincibility fell away. All of a sudden I realized that for some of us, there is no “some day.”
As you grow older you trade one set of challenges for another. When younger, I fretted what the future held in terms of a career, spouse, and children and whether I would be successful at any.
I remember as a young mother wondering if I would ever have a minute to myself to complete a thought, and feeling intimidated by discussions that ventured beyond child rearing.
Going back to school in my late 30s helped broaden my world and launch me on a career track.
I’ve learned that challenges do indeed make you stronger. Getting out from an unsatisfactory marriage while my children were young required determination and a steadfast belief that better days lay ahead. They did.
And anyone running a business can tell you it’s no piece of cake.
I guess I’m surprised, somewhat pleasantly, by how life today seems busier than ever. They say that’s a good thing. Being engaged helps keep us healthy in mind and body. I like to feel I have something to contribute, if even on a small scale.
But I find this unrelenting march of time exasperating, and not a little haunting, because I see all too clearly the finiteness of life and its narrowing window of opportunities.
It’s not going to happen, is it?
Most likely I’ll never be able to knit a sweater that doesn’t look homemade. Run a marathon. Master another language. Travel the world.
But it won’t be from a lack of trying.
