Yesterday I turned 60 years old. Coming up to my birthday I believe I felt a sense of fear and panic. I could not wrap that truth around my graying head. I had been asking my mother if she is certain the birth certificate is correct. Bless her. She is 89 years old and has dementia. One day she told me that she thought quite sure I was turning 40, not 60. Often, it grieves me when her memory is unclear but occasionally we get those good days of fuzzy thinking.
So I am officially into my 60’s. I felt the love and support of family and friends, perhaps in some cases it was pity. But here I am. Today the anxiety has passed (okay, is passing). I step into this new decade with many thoughts and emotions. I also step into it with a few extra pounds. Turning 60 does have its cake and ice-cream and pie and cupcakes obligations. I am, in fact, a pleaser by nature. That is a subject for another day.