Yesterday, a former boyfriend (notice how I avoided the word "old"?) was featured on the front page of our local newspaper, for—of all things—reaching the age of 60. The firefighter-turned-human-rights-complainant has been forced into early retirement. See what I mean about cultural expectations?
Besides making me a believer in synchronicity, the article got me thinking about the fact that I had a life before Jim (my husband), whereas now I have a life because of him. I am a mother, grandmother, mother-in-law, writer, museum director, entrepreneur, and a whole lot more. None of these things can be taken away from me just because I’ve reached a certain age.
We need to plan for each life stage, so that we don’t retire from life before our time. Lots of on-the-job skills are transferable to new occupations or hobbies, and it is entirely possible to learn new skills, as anyone who tries to keep up with the latest techno-gadgets can testify. Well, that’s enough navel-gazing for now. I have deadlines to meet, an installation to prepare for, and a dog to take to the vet.
For today, that’s what becoming 60 looks like.
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