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At 75: A view from the rear- view mirror
Today is my 75th birthday
In my twenties, I spent time like I was on a shopping spry, using days as if there was an endless supply. It was the time when I could leave the faucet running, beyond what I needed, with no thought of a future comeuppance.
Whatever happened in my earlier years, I felt that I could repair what may have gone awry. There was always more time. Always tomorrow.
Of course, I knew that aging happens and that it would happen to me. Turning 75, though, came as a big surprise. It just snuck up on me. Reaching what’s considered old age is like going to a distant land, one that wasn’t on my bucket list.
And now, my gaze is often in the rear- view mirror. What if I had harnessed time differently. Would I have published a book before age 73? Would I have handled my career differently? Would I have spent less time concerned about my competence and allowed more space to take pleasure in my work? Could I have handled relationships to others differently? Would I have dedicated more time to self-reflection?
Would I have known how few years there actually are of child rearing, and how much time follows to ponder on mistakes made, chances not taken, conversations not had?
How much sooner could I have understood that parents are also flawed humans, struggling to do…
