I wanted to portray myself as a stable, steady woman. And I am. Mostly. Landing on 60 was difficult for me. Ugly even. I have made an unsteady transition into maturity now, and am embracing and enjoying the journey I’m on, this experience of growing up and getting older and older.
My children don’t like to go to movies with me. I cry loud and laugh louder. I embarrass them. No one has ever accused me of being a stylish dresser. Another embarrassment for them. They love me in spite of my many weaknesses, and I adore them. It works out for all of us.
I’m blessed to have my mother live with me. She keeps me humble, makes me laugh, and is my partner in crime. My grandson lives with us, too. He keeps me young. I’m finally learning patience.
It’s true. You get the lesson until you get the lesson.
Being part of a multigeneraltional family comforts my soul.
I have the heart of a writer. I’ve always known it. Finally I have the time and energy to put words on paper. It’s never too late.