In two days I will be fifty. Fifty. I’m not “taking it hard” or bothered by it, not in the cliche way. I keep looking at it thinking that fifty is not so bad. It’s kind of impressive. I’m crossing a milestone, for sure. This was the ascent. Right? If so, I’ve paced myself well. I’ve made my climb but it has not been without potentially life ending consequences. I’ve had my small avalanches on the ascent. I’ve had to hold at a designated base camp before continuing. But the summit is clearly in sight. And the view back over my shoulder is remarkable, awesome, amazing. I have two lovely children. Two. The blessing of twos. Each young man so unique and wonderful and once they were curled up inside me. I carried them inside me. I grew them. I made them with my blood. I actually grew them. My fruits.
There are other fruits of my labor, woven out of my fierce determination and intellect (and a fair amount of undeniable insecurity). I hustled and pushed. I studied and I worked. I “made it”, right?
Fifty. Two quarters. Ten dimes. Fifty pennies. A fifty cent piece. Half of a century. Whoa.
I could make the list of gratitude: my general health, my minimal joint issues, no major or minor surgeries (or even biopsies) – just a few shaves and chisels, only mild mental illness(laugh people, aren’t we all a wee bit mad at this point?). I have decent skin and my grey hair blends nicely with my natural color, which is only assisted with salon foils four times a year. I have a few strangely crooked fingers – my Granny’s fingers – on my right hand. I did the whole menopause early and unexpectedly while I was going through the divorce, so I feel fortunate to not have THAT pressed up against turning FIFTY, too. See……blessings. It is easy to jump into love at the base of the mountain that is The Future. Thirty years ago, there was no baggage and the adventure opened up before me and all that was required was deciding to step forward. Then you decide to move into a stride with another person and you “plan a future”, pick a city to move to, have kids, put them in school and push up the mountain. But paths diverge sometimes and the choice of roads differs and you split up. Fortunately, neither of us fell off the mountain. For that, I also feel blessed. My sons have both their parents. There was no tragedy or catastrophe. And….I have fallen in love again. And while there is more baggage and more apparent obstacles…there is no push to get up the mountain. Love is grand.
I want to enjoy and marvel in the other side of this summit just as much. I am hoping for a slow gradation that meanders and toodles down a gentle(r) slope. I have some more stuff I want to do. I shit ton more stuff. From where I am standing, the view is incredible and the distant horizon is breathtaking. I am blessed. I have so many blessings.