60 Is Not The New 40

Thoughts On Another Trip Around The Sun

I had a birthday this week. A friend sent a text, “I saw a post from ten years ago. We were celebrating your 50th together in Portland. Could this one be the big 60? Unbelievable.”

Yeah, it’s pretty unbelievable to me as well. That trip to Portland seems like yesterday, and also like a lifetime ago. So many things have changed. So many things have stood still.

We are climbing our way out of the backside of a pandemic, and learning to navigate a future that is forever changed by it. My mom has died. A woman who I held as invincible, fell to the brutal destruction of lung cancer in a mere 6 months post diagnosis. We sold our house and moved to a condo, seemingly to simplify our lives as we prepared for more freedom after Tom retired. I have ever so slowly decreased my days at work. We began biking, and have taken several international and domestic biking trips with friends. A friend and I walked a Camino through parts of Portugal and Spain, an accomplishment that was on my radar for a good many years, but fell short of my ultimate goal of walking the entire Camino Frances. That one will have to stay on the horizon for a bit longer. We moved my Dad here from his home in Kansas so I could better care for him. I became co-guardian of a senior special needs woman, after her 97 year old mother died, and she was left with no close family to care for her. A friend of 35 years was diagnosed with a terrible, slowly degenerating brain disease. One, I’m sure, several in my age group have dealt with in their own friend and family circles.

I’m certainly not doing what I thought I would be at this age. Earlier in my life, it never occurred to me that I would be caring for my Dad. His health was always so much worse than my Mom’s, so I assumed he would go before her. I had actively thought about what I could do for her after he was gone, going so far as to look at houses with room for an ADU. I was even planning for her sister to move here with her after both their husbands had passed. They would have been a breeze compared to Dad. I also never dreamed my friend would need such help as she aged. But as a single woman with no immediate family in the area, her friends have become her lifeline through this illness, even if she doesn’t really know or believe that to be true. At the time another friend and I agreed to care for the special needs woman after her mother died, I had no idea I would have these other responsibilities to grapple with, but I can’t imagine my answer would have been any different. She is such a vulnerable person, and the thought of leaving her open to abuse or neglect is not something I could live with.

I am not doing any of this on my own. My support network, from Tom to our amazing group of friends, will not let me drown, even when I want to. This is a multi-person team effort. And that’s the other side of the “not what I thought I would be doing at this age.” In my younger days, I often thought I was destined to a life of solitude. Now I can hardly find a minute to myself. Not that that’s a bad thing-except on those days when I find myself dreaming of spending three days in a room by myself, lying on a couch with a cup of tea or glass of wine, sun streaming through a very clean window, reading a good book, without a care or demand to be found-but mostly not a bad thing. I always have someone to call on, to lean on, to have fun with, to cry to, to laugh with, to hang with, to meet for coffee, a walk, or a bike ride. I have friends who bake my Dad cookies, cook him a meal, take him out to dinner when I’m out of town. They help me keep tabs on our friend with dementia. I have friends who take our special needs “daughter” to her favorite store, to gaze longingly at her favorite figurines. I have a friend who give me massages.

And then there is Tom. We married in my 40th year. We’ll celebrate our 20th this year. That may not seem like a long time to some, but my mom never thought I could keep a man longer than a few months, so there’s that accomplishment. These twenty have been solid. He puts up with me, and my litany of projects. And I put up with him. It works for us both. I think we will stick with this.

Reflecting on these past 60 years, and looking forward to what lies ahead, there are a few truths I know. I have had an excellent life, so far. There have been hard times, and heartaches, and sadness. But, the good times, heart-full moments, and joyfulness far outweigh and outnumber those. My life is so different from that of my parents, grandparents, or even my brother and cousins. I’m more active, more ageless. Sixty is not the new forty. Sixty is the new sixty. I’m surrounded by friends and a husband who are all older than me. They have shown me how to thrive in a life, not just how to live a life. My Mom was only fourteen years older than I am now when she died, and she had so much more she wanted to do. So much more life to live. My Dad gave up on life quite young, and yet he is still here. She is not. Life and death are not fair. Live it up until it’s done. And don’t try to do it alone.

Scenes from our most recent friends trip to Ireland, and one of our new “daughter”