Two weeks ago I turned 50. I wondered if I would wake up suddenly wiser, or with osteoporosis, but 50 felt no different than 49 -- which is true of most milestone birthdays. Do you remember turning 10? Of course not. (Though no one made senior citizen jokes when I turned 10.)
So maybe I am over the hill like those old decorations taunted my own father. But I can't wait to see what's on the hill behind this one. And the one after that. If the first forty is any indication, it promises to be quite the journey.
Up until recently, I have f*cking dreaded the aging process. But I am alive. And it's going to be my birthday. I am going to eat some cake and I'm going to blow out some candles. This is a plan. It's an awesome one.
You learned the bare minimum hours of sleep you can get and still be a somewhat-functioning human being, the number of times a day a toddler can ask why, and that you will never again laugh without peeing a little.
On Dec. 17, when I go to blow out my candles again I will again re-examine my master to do list, which contains all the things I want to accomplish in this life before I go. I know I'll be able to check off a few more things.
Today is my birthday. I'm officially 59, and these are my last 12 months before the 60s begin. As some of you will agree, by this age birthdays are more about reflection than celebration, good company than pricey presents.
So I wake up in the night and my brain says this: Lake Havisu. Weird. Not only have I never been to Lake Havisu, I'm not even sure where it is. Is it by the Hoover Dam? Near Las Vegas? It's 4 A.M. and before I can stop it, my brain is flitting from one enigmatic thing to the next.
The guidelines for healthy living do not change as you age, but your tolerance to food or desire to eat does. You've made it to this age, now keep at it and add to those birthdays by doing the following:
Exactly three years ago, my uncle Morris passed away in Dallas at age 103 plus a few months. He never expected to live that long -- does anyone? But he did, and was alert until his very final days.
This happened just as I was giving myself an 80th birthday party in New York.
How can I be confident that I'm navigating this unstructured free-for-all period correctly when I've been on this earth for less time than the movie Hoosiers? And where can I find some sort of validation for how I'm living that doesn't include Instagram likes?
As I picked up my daughter recently from a playdate, she got in the car and proceeded to tell me one of her friends had lied to her that day. This was my cue to turn off the radio. "Lied to you? Are you sure?" I proceeded to ask. Yes, quite sure.