It’s Just a Number

Age 63

My mantra is “embrace life and capture beauty”.

Sixty-four is looming, but thankfully, the number doesn’t feel particularly onerous. I’m actually pretty okay with it. The song “When I’m 64” has always been more about relationships than aging to me – about the search for someone who would hang in there, for better or worse, for wrinkles and expanding waistlines. Luckily, I found someone who has hung in there and loved me for 30 years. Our relationship somehow survived the loss of our firstborn child, among other far less significant challenges. We still consider ourselves a work in progress, though, and visit a therapist when a course correction is required. I recommend it. 

Back to that number. I don’t feel old. I may not be in perfect health, and could stand to lose 25+ pounds, but overall, I feel good – much younger than 64! I’m not sure what I envisioned for my mid-60’s (in terms of activity level), but long walks, family trail hikes, and occasional Zumba classes keep me limber and grateful. Heart issues have been a bother, but I’m hoping they’re in my rear-view mirror.

My 64th year represents a time of major transition. Retirement is on the horizon, and my impending next phase fills my plate (and head) with a large helping of excitement, seasoned with a pinch of self-doubt and regret. My glee is understandable – I’m gaining freedom from major work responsibilities, and wrapping up a job that’s been less than perfect for a while now. The self-doubt and regret? They’re by-products of second-guessing the various academic and career decisions I’ve made over the years. I’m determined to free my mind of those fruitless thoughts, though, and focus on “retirement reinvention”- a term I’m still defining.

My children (excuse me - young adult offspring) are an important part of my past, present and future as well. I’ve watched them grow, experience joy and face struggles, and tried to provide strong arms for hugging and/or lifting up, whenever needed. Parenting has brought me bliss, heartache, pride, and tears. As they say, it’s the hardest job you’ll ever love – and that’s the gospel truth.

Strong friendships are ever so important as we grow older. I often meet local friends at the town brewpub, and gather with neighbors in our driveway - but some of my dearest friends live at a major distance, and that makes connecting more challenging. Pre-pandemic, I rendezvoused with a good friend in Chicago, “reuned” with my best college buddies in Ogunquit, and met pals for dinner and beach walks “down the shore” in Avalon. Covid-19 has made many of those face-to-face gatherings impossible…so, we Zoom, text, and share silly political memes. Whatever it takes, we need to remain social, connected, and supported.

I would imagine that most seniors (good God – is that what I am?) do some serious stock-taking – questioning whether their lives have had meaning, and how they would like to be remembered. Have I made the world a better place? I found a niche in higher education administration, where I counseled students, planned various lecture series and ceremonies, and hopefully had an impact on both the students and schools. I later found myself in the arts and culture field, which is where my 42-year working career has wrapped up. I’d like to think my work made a difference, but I may never know.

Looking ahead, that “reinvention” I mentioned earlier will require an ongoing assessment - of finances, commitments, and priorities. That sounds way more serious than I intended. Maybe it’s more basic than that – a case of balancing my bucket list with my bank account! My mantra is “embrace life and capture beauty,” which drives me to spend more time with those I love, take and share more interesting photos, and be grateful for the simplest sights and experiences. The adventure continues, and the number 64…is just that - a number.