Doing Sixty on the Shoulder

Doing Sixty on the Shoulder

September 24, 2014

            Today I am 60, and I’ve decided that I don’t know what that number means.  A few days ago I spent time peering into the mirror, trying to get use to the idea.  I kept repeating aloud, “You’re going to be 60.  60!  You. Will. Be. 60! The Big 6-0!”  Nothing. The more I said the number the more meaningless it became.  I recently heard a local news reporter describe a victim of a crime as, “…an elderly man, around 60.” Elderly?!  Is that me?  Am I elderly?

            My grandmother use to tell me, “If you can’t admit your years, you don’t deserve them.”  I don’t mind admitting my years.  I just can’t figure out if this milestone number marks some significant change I’m suppose to make.  Is there a protocol for sixty-ness that I need to follow?  The phrase, “age appropriate” now takes on scary overtones.  Do I retire the high heels and don sensible shoes?  Do I put down the bourbon and pick up a cup of tea?  Am I banned from Victoria’s Secret and doomed to a future filled with white cotton undies? Am I finished with things, or am I just beginning?

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             Frankly, it feels like a beginning.  I’m in the best health of my life; I wear a smaller dress than I did in high school; and I’m in love.  Ain’t that a kick in the head?  At my advanced age…..and, believe me, I’d put the whole idea in the trunk with all the other mementoes of the past….I’m giggly and giddy all because of a boy!  And I finally understand all that stuff about loving and being loved by someone warts, wrinkles, flatulence, aches, pains, and all by someone who thinks I’m wonderful and who knows I feel the same about him.  It’s probably painful for others to watch, but I’m having too much fun to care.

            A kind of serene calmness accompanies me these days.  No longer am I driven by a nerve-wracking need to achieve and accomplish.  There’s nothing I need to prove to anyone or myself.  I feel more content than I ever have. My crowd of friends fills my life with laughter and delight; my beloved parents are still in the world to wake me with loving birthday wishes; and my beautiful daughter is bright, articulate, educated and employed.  I wake up grateful for every new day.

            It’s probably not age appropriate, but I’m feeling pretty damned excited about the years to come.  I know there are more days behind me than in front of me, but I’m not troubled by that realization.  The future is a rare, sweet nectar I plan to savor and enjoy drop by drop as long as it lasts.

            My daily stroll on the shoulder of the highway makes a loop that always brings me back home, but today, as I topped my first summit, I saw myself continuing up over that hill in the distance, making my way toward all the beautiful possibilities that lie ahead.  On this twenty-fourth day of September in the year of our Lord two thousand and fourteen, I am sixty!…. and I’ve decided that number means blessed.