A friend has that 60th birthday coming up, the one of so very many jokes and often a fair amount of trepidation. My sister has passed that milestone and I’ll be knocking on the door before too long. You can’t help but reflect as you look at that, knowing logically that you have reached a stage in your life that you perhaps only vaguely knew you would. After all, as a child your grandparents were sixty. I mean, really, your grandparents! And if you have children, you may now be the grandparent.
Each person decides on their own whether they wish to embrace aging, fight it with cosmetics/other procedures, deny it, allow it to be a stressor, be puzzled by it, or a combination of any of the above. In keeping with the whole, “How did I get here?”, view of turning sixty, I wrote a poem a few years ago for another friend’s birthday. I don’t do poetry for other than special occasions now, but for all of you out there at, or near the Sixtieth birthday, I offer these words:
Sweet sixteen has long past A twinkle of time though To bring sixty sweeter still. The years of learning, of giving, Of finding love fleeting in youth, Of becoming the person you are. How precious the understanding That tears spent forged strength, And wisdom is not quickly had. We touch our glasses to toast you To celebrate this, our salute to Living life in all its richness.