I’m two days shy of my sixtieth birthday.

Conventional thinking would suggest that I’m past my prime and that I’m on the downhill slide.

Not so.  I’m happier, healthier, more fulfilled and having more fun than I’ve ever had in my life.   And that’s worth celebrating!   Which I’ve been doing for days already.  Celebrated at lunch with my team last week when we were all in the same place at the same time.  They gave me the pinkest birthday cake I’ve ever had!

 

My husband built me my birthday “dream”: a backyard sauna with outdoor shower.

 

Tomorrow I’m taking a 3-day road trip with my best friend, Kathleen, to see another dear friend who moved to Mariposa, near Yosemite, about 10 years ago.

And in mid-November I’m throwing myself a party.  I’ve got my friend and world’s greatest entertainer, Andrew Johns, lined up.  Food truck (serving Aisan fusion!) is confirmed.  Evite invitations are out and about 50 people said yes, with only a couple of “nos” and a handful of maybes.  Milestone birthdays are the best!  I plan to have many more!

---

I hope I’ve inherited my Aunt Lillian’s genes.

she sent me a birthday card today – handwritten, legible and lucid … and she’s going on 99.  She’s busy packing up to move into a (her quotes) “Senior Living” place.  She is amazing.

Admittedly, memory lapses are happening more frequently than I’d like – but other than that, I’m sharp as a tack.  (Or, so I think!  How would I know if I wasn’t?)   Oh, and I do have Osteoporosis, but there’s a pill for that, and the Doc says in a few years it’ll be reversed and my bones will be as strong as ever.  I still run up the stairs .. and you ought to see me running to catch my flight at an airport!  Heck, I’ve never even colored my hair – and there’s not much grey up there (that I can see, at least!)!

---

I’m writing a book.

Really!  (More about the big publication date when it gets closer.)  It’s a memoir and (hopefully) an inspirational story about the positive power of travel experiences to change one’s life for the better.  That’s my story (and I’m sticking’ to it!).

---

I’m in an introspective place.

It’s a good place.  Looking at my life and the lessons learned.  Appreciating all the blessings and the wonderful relationships I’ve developed.  Acknowledging where I started and how much I’ve grown.  Reflecting and remembering and reminiscing . . . such sweet satisfaction!

---

I love parties.

Especially giving them.  My party in November will be fun.  I’m excited to see two friends from my high school days who are coming from the Midwest with their husbands.  The three of us celebrated our 50th birthdays together 10 years ago at the Grand Velas Resort near Puerto Vallarta.  All of us were single (divorced) back then.  I remembered that we all of us wondered if we’d ever fall in love again.  Silly girls – of course we would each find a smart, enlightened man!

Age is a curious phenomenon.  It happens to everyone.  What a wonderful thing – to grow out of our awkward adolescent angst and Catholic-school cliques and negative assumptions about our bodies and our selves.  Neither of these girls were friends of mine in high school at St Stephen’s.  They were both popular.  They bought fashionable clothes at the Villager store in Green Acres Plaza.  They were voted onto the Homecoming Court.  They got asked out on dates.  And Mary Jo was a cheerleader.  She was the little one who drew “aahs” from the crowd at halftime of basketball games when she catapulted off the trampoline.  Man, that girl could fly!

Man, how I wanted to be her!

---

For me, life at sixteen wasn’t so sweet.  Girls like me – with fat thighs – couldn’t be cheerleaders.  Girls like me – lacking cuteness, fashionable clothes or confidence – couldn’t be popular.  I was smart – but I was a girl.  Back in those days female intelligence didn’t get you anywhere.  Women in the big cities were making noise about “liberation,” but not much was happening on that front in small-town middle-America.  All I really wanted was to have a lot of friends and have fun.

---

My Mom had cancer.  When she was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 50, followed by a radical mastectomy, radiation and chemotherapy, it was as if all the oxygen got sucked out of our little house on Glendale Street.  Home was a pretty depressing place to be.  Catholic school wasn’t fun.  Saginaw was a segregated, depressing, rust-belt General Motors town.

No, there was no such thing as “sweet sixteen” for me.  But I’m happy to call myself a late bloomer!

---

Looking back now, of course, I can see the perfection in all that imperfection.

• If I had lots of friends back then, I doubt that I’d have mastered the art of friendship … wouldn’t have learned how to cultivate, nurture and sustain friendships, which I consider one of my greatest life lessons.
• If I was popular back then, I would have had a boyfriend and would not have left the country to go traveling to southeast Asia when I was 23 years old.  And wouldn’t have the amazing travel experiences I get to write about in this weekly blog!
• If I was confident and assertive back then, I would have less empathy today.  I wouldn’t notice the wallflowers and attempt to draw them out and make them comfortable in a crowd.

In the end, there is always something right about stuff that seems wrong.  I suppose it takes a few decades of experience to appreciate that.

---

Comments?  Anybody relate?