Hitting the Sweet 60 feels a bit surreal, maybe because it seems like yesterday that I celebrated my Sweet 16. The time in my life when boys and friends ruled. School was tolerated, although I wasn’t one of those kids that hated it. Home life was fine—my parents supported me in activities, and gave me a long leash, California style. I no longer looked awkward. I stood poised on the cusp of greatness, with a good head on my shoulders, despite a touch of recklessness. A pretty great time in my life from many respects.
I couldn’t wait to be older, out on my own, ruler of my own roost. I remember being antsy for it, in that way the young don’t value their youth, always wanting something more, bigger, adult. Some of the years between then and now are a blur, especially during the throes of motherhood, working full time, and trying to remember I had a dream in there to become an author and figuring out how to get there. I’m on the flipside of the formative parenting years. My oldest is 40 and my youngest 27. My husband of over 30 years and I are happily living in the woods with a sweet, sensitive dog and a whole lotta love (yep, that’s a Led Zeppelin reference). And if you had asked me at 16 what 60 would be like, I would have said, OLD, so freaking old. And it is so not that. (Take heart, young folks.) Taking stock of what matters, here are 16 things I’ve learned from my hindsight-so-far view.
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July 2024
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