Milestones
Thirty was a milestone. Thirty-one was not. Likewise fifty and fifty-one, and sixty and sixty-one.
Sixty-two is a milestone. I will be officially a senior citizen in most quarters. I will sign up for Social Security. I will no longer accept any backtalk or crap. I will be a curmudgeon if I choose to be. I will be sassy, relentless in my pursuit of happiness. I will be a sexy grandma. People will call me "feisty", a euphemism for "old".
Not all milestones are as obvious as the age related ones.
There's the mortgage paid off milestone. There's the first-timer club where you finally get the courage to go skydiving or climb a mountain or dance to disco once again (no, not in my lifetime!) There's the day when you decide to forget dieting because the clothes you have now fit and you like them. The day you quit your job because you realize you hate it. The day you lose a loved one. The day you decide to never look back. The day you decide to take a chance. The day you decide to touch one life and bring it....something.
I no longer feel as though I have to do anything I don't want to do. I don't have to care about things in which I have no interest. I've earned my stripes. I no longer feel a need to explain my choices.
I didn't say all milestones are good ones. Sometimes you look at a choice you made and wonder how the course of your life would have changed. I should have a college degree. I don't. I've made no effort to get one. It is never too late, I know that. But now I don't want to. I should have finished my book by now. It isn't too late, I know that, but the chase is better than the catch.
Sometimes the milestone is more of a millstone.
Turning sixty-two isn't as traumatic as turning thirty, nor as freeing as fifty-eight. I've reached an age where my regrets are few. I will take each day as it is given to me. I will put people in the cubbyholes where they belong--friends, family, acquaintances, associates. I will expect nothing so I won't be disappointed when nothing happens. Instead, I can take the dramas of my days at face value--a moment of joy, a moment of crying, one at a time.
I am what I am. I am chubby. I have nice eyes. I am smart. I am disorganized. I have a strong faith in God. I spill my thoughts into my blog, hoping someone will understand.
Understanding one more thing about myself is another milestone I have achieved.
Sixty-two is a milestone. I will be officially a senior citizen in most quarters. I will sign up for Social Security. I will no longer accept any backtalk or crap. I will be a curmudgeon if I choose to be. I will be sassy, relentless in my pursuit of happiness. I will be a sexy grandma. People will call me "feisty", a euphemism for "old".
Not all milestones are as obvious as the age related ones.
There's the mortgage paid off milestone. There's the first-timer club where you finally get the courage to go skydiving or climb a mountain or dance to disco once again (no, not in my lifetime!) There's the day when you decide to forget dieting because the clothes you have now fit and you like them. The day you quit your job because you realize you hate it. The day you lose a loved one. The day you decide to never look back. The day you decide to take a chance. The day you decide to touch one life and bring it....something.
I no longer feel as though I have to do anything I don't want to do. I don't have to care about things in which I have no interest. I've earned my stripes. I no longer feel a need to explain my choices.
I didn't say all milestones are good ones. Sometimes you look at a choice you made and wonder how the course of your life would have changed. I should have a college degree. I don't. I've made no effort to get one. It is never too late, I know that. But now I don't want to. I should have finished my book by now. It isn't too late, I know that, but the chase is better than the catch.
Sometimes the milestone is more of a millstone.
Turning sixty-two isn't as traumatic as turning thirty, nor as freeing as fifty-eight. I've reached an age where my regrets are few. I will take each day as it is given to me. I will put people in the cubbyholes where they belong--friends, family, acquaintances, associates. I will expect nothing so I won't be disappointed when nothing happens. Instead, I can take the dramas of my days at face value--a moment of joy, a moment of crying, one at a time.
I am what I am. I am chubby. I have nice eyes. I am smart. I am disorganized. I have a strong faith in God. I spill my thoughts into my blog, hoping someone will understand.
Understanding one more thing about myself is another milestone I have achieved.
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