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Conversation at this Age
When I was young, I thought people this age were having very sophisticated conversations about culture, politics and the like. Maybe it is me. Maybe it is the people that I hang out with. But for the most part, we seem to be talking about two things: sleep (specifically our inability to do it) and…
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The Things We Don’t Get to Keep
When Bruce married me, he got a package deal. One of the many reasons that I fell in love with Bruce is that he said to me, very early on in our dating life, “I would never separate you from your parents at this age.” Shortly after I moved to Dallas, we moved my two…
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Where Did It Go?
What the hell happened to middle-aged? I had a very rude awakening the other day when I referred to myself as middle-aged. The math didn’t work. It is a bit crazy when you think about it. I guess the forties are middle-aged, but does anyone actually feel that way? I didn’t. I am pretty sure…
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I am an Enigma. And Proud of It.
At the end of our senior year in high school, our class president signed my yearbook. He started his note with, “you are an enigma.” I may have had to look the word up. It certainly didn’t sound like a compliment. At some point, I settled into it. I AM an enigma. And I am…
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The Firecracker
My husband called my mother “The Firecracker.” And she loved it. She was beautiful, smart, athletic and an amazing wife and mother. But Mama was also a lot of fun. She had a wicked sense of humor and could be just a little bit naughty. The Firecracker suited her perfectly. When I lived and practiced…
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I Wish Someone Had Warned Me: Your Fifties Are Not For the Faint of Heart
My fifties brought me to my knees. Repeatedly. And I don’t feel like I was warned adequately. I am not quite sure who I think should have warned me. Regardless, no one did. I want to be that person for you. Going into my fifties, I felt like my life was in a pretty good…
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So This Is My Sixtieth Year
I turn sixty next July. My life at this age is not anything like what I expected it to be. When I pictured sixty, the word that comes to mind now is grandmotherly. Grey hair. A little plump. Socially active. Family at the center of everything. A perfectly nice life, actually. I just assumed it…
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