Welcome to my blog. NOT MY MOTHER'S 60 began as a celebration of my journey through “Super Adulthood”. In 2018, my beautiful world came crashing down on me with the sudden illness and death of my husband - my Big Kahuna - George. With his blessing I shared his four month battle with a rare cancer. When he died, a part of me died too. My blog is now my new journey – celebrating our love that will never die, and grief that never ends.
It’s official. I am a Medicare card carrying, Social
Security receiving Super Adult. Today marks the 66th anniversary of
that eventful day when my 42 year old parents, and my 19 and 14 year old
siblings welcomed little Paula Marie into the world. I have tearfully said
goodbye to Mom, Dad and my sibs, but I feel their presence always, and know
they are celebrating with me today as I mark another notch in my birthday belt.
The past year was marked with some challenges and milestones
– a debilitating back injury and surgery, retirement, Hubby happily relocating
to a home office, and all of the adjustments that ensued. While I may have moved
to the last age demographic bubble on (almost) every survey, there’s still a
lot of life left in this girl!
I also find myself being more reflective. What have I
learned so far on my journey? Here are 17 Things I Learned On My Route to 66.
I have had a simple, full life. I have reconciled any
regrets with self-forgiveness
I reinvented myself and my careers, choosing always to follow
my heart
I have made lifelong friendships
I have not let the worst moments of my life affect the best
moments
My children are my greatest accomplishment
Grandparenting is my reward for not inadvertently killing my
kids as their clueless mother!
I am happiest when Hubby is by my side
Laughter is the secret sauce of a great marriage
Letting go of toxic relationships is liberating.
Perfectionism is an excuse - and a roadblock to growth
Giving selflessly is reward enough
Fighting against social injustice is ageless
Forget science and technology. Well engineered undergarments
(aka Spanx) are the best invention of
the past 100 years
You’re never too old to dance
Every fashion trend will reappear in time – except, maybe,
shoulder pads
Pie trumps cake
Love trumps hate
Aging is inevitable. Your
relationship with age is a choice. I choose to embrace the physical
reminders and cherish the gifts that my years have bestowed on me. Hubby is taking me to the Happiest Place on
Earth today, where I will proudly wear my “It’s My Birthday” button, enjoy the
people watching, and count my blessings.
Go ahead. Call me “Paula-ana” – I’m excited
for what my next 66 years have to offer! Happy Birthday to Me. Here’s to my Sensational
66!
Everyone can relate to those annoying moments when we can’t pull that byte of information from our human hard drive. What day is Charlie’s vet appointment? Is this the “other” week for taking down the recycled trash bin?What was it I headed to the kitchen for? Life, at any age, is rife with moments of forgetfulness. As a super-adult the memory lapses may become more frequent, but to date I can say my record for timely data retrieval is pretty damn good. Except for that one day…
It began as a Sunday brunch at our home, following a Saturday night shindig in our "always ready for a party" backyard. Out of town friends and family congregated at Casa de Hultman for mimosas, munchies and memories. As usual I channeled my inner Martha Stewart, doing what I love most – entertaining. It was a lovely gathering if I do say so myself! After the guests departed, I felt the satisfaction of another successful social event, and a bit of fatigue associated with the week of socializing with wonderful friends.I decided to take a nap – something I never do – but my bed was calling my name.
Twas the Night Before...it took a day or so to remember, as the video below shows.
An hour before I "lost my mind"!
Six hours later, I opened my eyes as I was being inserted into an MRI chamber! What happened in those hours between my nap and that tube of terror is nowhere to be found in my memory. But Hubby, Son and Daughter have filled in the gaps. Let me set the scene…
As I headed upstairs for that fateful nap, I asked Hubby to run to the store for some Gatorade, my after-party beverage of choice. I had opted out of imbibing that day, but the week of “fun with friends” had resulted in the lower intestinal “gift” that keeps on giving! Son and Daughter-in-Law were at their home preparing meals in advance of the arrival of their first born, due any day. Daughter was with her Mommy and Babies group at the beach, enjoying a beautiful SoCal Sunday. About an hour after I had gone upstairs, Hubby left to fulfill my G2 request. Then the calls started…
According to phone records and corroborating reports from those involved, I called hubby first, but he had left his phone in the car when he ran into the market. I called Son and Daughter-in-Law next. By all reports, I sounded completely normal, and asked if Hubby was there. DIL said no, and I ended the call, but not before telling her, "I can't remember anything." I then called Daughter. “Something is wrong, I can't remember anything," I reported, then I added the kicker! "Dad’s not here and he won’t come home!” Understandably alarmed, she stayed on the phone with me while her friend called Hubby. He was leaving the store, got the call and raced home in record time. He found me sitting on the edge of the bed, coherent but confused, saying I didn’t remember anything. 9-1-1 was called, EMT’s arrived, and I was triaged, then transported by ambulance to the local hospital. I REMEMBER NONE OF THIS!!
I learned in cases like this, the first diagnosis is stroke. Once that was ruled out, the ER doctor and “virtual” neurologist (yes, there was a robo-doctor!) diagnosed Transient Global Amnesia (TGA). You can learn more here, but the cliff notes are:
Sudden onset of memory loss
Retention of personal identity despite memory loss
Normal cognition, such as the ability to recognize and name familiar objects and follow simple directions
Absence of signs indicating damage to a particular area of the brain, such as limb paralysis, involuntary movement or impaired word recognition
Just ride it out, the doctors said. She will not remember any of this and will be herself within 24 hours. To rule out anything more sinister, I was subjected to CT scans, MRI’s and EEG’s, and experienced my first hospital sleepover since giving birth.
For the family, relief replaced panic. Daughter and Hubby stayed by my side, and enjoyed the comedic side effect of TGA - my repetitive questioning – “Why am I here?” “How did I get here?” This was a continuous loop for hours, with my occasional comment, “This is just like “50 First Dates.” DIL and Son showed up to join the party, and Hubby swears he asked my permission to video a TGA moment, as a souvenir of my “mindless” adventure. My comments and reactions to Hubby's news is priceless. You know I love my followers because I am showing you "Paula, unplugged!"
As promised, my memory slowly returned, and about six hours after my “nap”, I was almost back to normal. Follow ups with neurologists confirmed this was TGA. Try as I might, I cannot pull any memory of those lost hours, and in particular feel a little cheated out of recall of that ambulance ride and cute paramedics!
Earlier this week, Daughter reminded me of a momentous event in her life that I had totally forgotten. TGA wasn’t to blame this time. As she shared the memory with a bit of a laugh, I felt guilt. I should have remembered! Thankfully, Daughter filled in some of the gaps and rekindled my memory. Whew!
We all have unforgettable moments in our life, but what about the lost memories? I'm hoping they are lingering in the recesses of my brain's white matter, ready to materialize one day. As a super adult I am learning there is a limit on our mental cellular data.
To my friends who have dutifully kept journals, I admire you. Imagine the joy you will have reading and reliving your history! I am pledging, for my remaining days on this planet, to begin this daily practice of jotting down notes. Perhaps the collected memories will help me answer the BIG questions of life…
July 6 marks a very special date in our family history. On this date 37 years ago, Hubby and I vowed to love and to cherish each other in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live. We left for our honeymoon that evening after a wonderful reception - the first night spent at a hotel airport - and headed to Hawaii the next day. My big, strong, and self-assured Hubby lived with his parents up until the day we wed, and had to call his mother from the hotel that first night to ask where his wallet was - my man’s mom had packed his suitcase for his first ever plane trip with his first ever wife! We returned two weeks later, discovered what it was like to live together, and have been cherishing each other ever since.
37 years equals 37 anniversaries - skillfully marketed with increasingly expensive symbolic gifts - paper, wood, crystal, silver - and eventually the Golden 50 and Diamond 60th. Hubby has typically ignored such “foolish” traditions, and often chose to mark many July 6th’s with diamonds, rubies and emeralds, oh my! We frequently relived our honeymoon with trips to Hawaii, and recounted our years together while strolling our favorite beaches and toasting life together at our favorite barefoot bar. Such wonderful memories, celebrating our good fortune of finding “the one” all those years ago.
How are we celebrating the Big 3-7? The best way we know how - by being together. After so many memorable anniversary gifts and excursions, we still find pure joy in simply spending time in each other’s company - no gifts required, no trip necessary. Every day is a celebration of our wedding day.
There has been one constant in our 37 years - the Anniversary Card. You know the ones on the top rows in the card stores, with embossed flowers or silouhettes of adoring couples strolling hand-in-hand along the beach at sunset. A college graduate who is probably grateful to have put his English major to practical use, fills the pages with words intended to express the card giver’s everlasting love - and amazement - that the couple has managed to survive all of marriage’s ups and downs, and each other!
Personally, I am not a fan of mushy card sentiments and often opt for the alternate humorous variety. Hubby, on the other hand, is the card master. His gift is not in finding the perfect card – it is what he puts inside.He fills the entire inner leaf with his personal reflections - words that no Hallmark writer could touch! I love Hubby’s cards, and have a hope chest filled with 36 anniversary messages, carefully written, and representative of our extraordinary marriage. They mean as much to me as the diamonds, rubies and emeralds.
Honey, I am sorry to say that I didn’t get you a card this year. However, I have a good excuse - I was writing my blog! Instead of standing a piece of folded cardstock on the mantle this year, I am sharng my love for you with you and all of my “followers”. Paula is shouting from the rooftop, “I Love My Hubby!” And I did the math....here’s to our 37th. I have loved every 1.17 billion seconds of it! Now, on to 38!
July 6, 1974 - July 6, 2011
13,514 Days
324,336 Hours
19,460,160 Minutes
1,167,609,600 Seconds
Happy Anniversary to the man who still makes every day a gift.
After my two month hiatus, I’m back to blogging. I confess that I have missed my daily writing date with my laptop. Not that I ever put the computer away. On the contrary, Hubby surprised me with my first Mac laptop for my birthday - we have evolved into that point in our marriage when I am as thrilled with the gift of a MacBook as I used to be with a diamond tennis bracelet. Yet, since my 30 posts in 30 days personal challenge, I have struggled finding a theme for my future posts. My list of blog topics is long, yet random - and the organizer in me felt the need to tie it all up with some sort of all-encompassing theme. What I have come to accept is that my 60 year old brain is better equipped to deal with stream of consciousness missives and observations on small subjects rather than deep thoughts. Maybe at some point, the big picture take-aways will reveal themselves. For now, thank you for joining me on this next exploration of life at 60....
Daughter, Son’s fiancé, and I are headed to the desert and the closest poolside lounge chair for a few days of....well....nothing! The beauty of this trip is that there is no itinerary, other than being together. Our biggest decision will be which SPF factor sunscreen to use (my years of unabashed sun-“baking” warrant the use of SPF 1000+, a spot under an umbrella and a huge brimmed hat!).
Daughter and I began the tradition of our Palm Springs trips when she was in middle school. In those days, my role was relegated to that of chauffeur and financier - driving, and doling out dollars for entertainment that kept Daughter and her invited guest occupied for our spring break get-aways. Occasionally my teaching instincts would kick in, and I would drag the unwilling duo to a local museum or historic landmark. The only way they tolerated these death marches into forced learning was my promise that miniature golf, movies or a happy meal awaited them at the end of their suffering. Pool time meant that I was on high alert, surveying the area for the presence of teenage boys, and making sure that the waterplay remained G-rated. Those spring break trips were memorable - and I came home exhausted and eager for everyone to be back in school!
Our mother/daughter dynamic changed the summer she graduated from high school. That year, our Palm Springs trip was not the well-planned, bring-a-friend, spring break adventure of years past. Daughter needed some time away from home to deal with one of life’s most painful experiences - a break-up - and our hastily planned getaway was designed to give me time to offer comfort, wisdom and reassurance. In the familiar surroundings of our favorite little hotel and quiet pool, we laughed, she cried, I shared stories of my break-ups - and our mother/daughter relationship evolved. I was still her mother - but for the first time in our relationship, my almost 18 year old daughter seemed to “get” that I had once been her age.
In those three days, we spent hours talking to each other instead of at each other, and rarely left the pool and the hotel grounds. Our last evening there, we took a stroll through the weekly street fair and looked for a place to have dinner. As fate would have it, we chose a very popular Mexican Restaurant, Las Casuelas Terrazza, and were seated on the patio where live music filled the warm summer night air. We were happy, and Daughter was in a better place than she had been when we left home. The band played one familiar song after another and I eventually felt compelled to grab Daughter and said, “Come on, let’s dance!” For a moment, she resisted. “Dance with my mother? In public? Someone might see me!” But I insisted, and she reluctantly joined me - for one song. Then another. And another. We stayed on the dance floor for the rest of the evening. To this day, whenever we hear the song, What I Like About You, we find each other to share a dance together - reliving that moment in Palm Springs when we danced with wild abandon to the tune, knowing how much we meant to each other. It was magical!
It has been years since we have re-lived our Palm Springs girls trip, and this will be the first time that Son’s fiancé will be joining us. Daughter made the reservations at our little hotel this year, and requested our favorite room. The same band still plays at the same restaurant, and I guarantee that dancing will be involved. Our poolside conversation will include Fiancé’s wedding plans, and Daughter’s dreams with the wonderful man in her life. Happy Meals have been replaced with Happy Hours, and if I am lucky, I may get one of them to join me for a stroll to the nearby museum - or maybe we’ll just hang at the pool!
Mother and Daughter in Palm Springs - 2001. My surprise 50th birthday party. Dancing included!
With just two posts left to complete my “30 posts in 30 days toward 60” challenge, I am sad to be saying goodbye to my daily writing engagements with my laptop. When I began my “blog therapy” in January, I had no idea where it would take me - I was behind the wheel with no GPS directing me. I allowed myself to think (a lot!) about my life. In reading my posts I have confirmed what, in my heart, I already knew:
I cherish my family and friends
I need to love myself for who I am
Each experience of my life – even the difficult ones - has contributed to the person I am
I am happiest when giving back
Writing has always helped me deal with my innermost feelings, and sharing my thoughts and experience with others helped me wrap my head around my birthday milestone and all of the anxiety that I had allowed myself to feel. My 3-Word Wisdom project was my way of pushing myself to look inwardly on a daily basis, and as it wraps up I feel a wonderful sense of accomplishment. I have tackled some very personal subject matter and shared a few never-before-told stories, and it has been liberating to “write out loud”.My wisdom is just that – mine. Sharing it with you has been my personal journey of discovery. This has been Paula – unplugged!
Today’s 3-word wisdom. Seek your wisdom. Each of us has a lifetime of experiences – good, bad, and sometimes painful. Take time to reflect on your life and ask yourself how your journey has been shaped by the choices you have made and the people you have encountered. Let your self-discovery provide enlightenment into the person you are, and be honest with yourself – are you the person you want to be? By getting in touch with your personal wisdom, you will have an inner compass to help you through life’s best – and worst - moments. Here’s to your best life. I already have mine!
I am still in shock. Daughter, Son, Family and Friends were gathering at our house yesterday while we spent a carefully plotted diversionary trip to the wine country. As we made our way home and turned the corner onto our street, the sight was surreal - it took my breath away. There, lining each side of our very long driveway were over one hundred people to welcome us. SURPRISE!! Hubby and I arrived home from our fabulous wine tasting day to a surprise 60th birthday party. A band played the Beatles Birthday Song – our family’s traditional birthday anthem. Caterers were cooking and a bartender was pouring drinks. Banquet tables, chairs, balloons, banners, and canopy shelters– a last minute necessity due to some uncooperative weather - filled the back yard. The home we had left in the morning had been transformed into a magnificent party venue, thanks to our wonderful children and the family and friends they enlisted to help.
Everyone asked, “Were you surprised?” Completely. Utterly. Totally. I did not want a party when Daughter asked about having some people over next weekend. We had plans for a future night out with the kids and that sounded perfect. Besides, I felt that people were really over my Big Day after so much self-indulgent blogging. Little did I know what had been in the works for months!
I was stunned, as was Hubby, who was also kept completely in the dark. This was OUR 60th birthday party. We laughed and cried, hugged and danced - and apparently our neighbors called to police - at 8:00 pm - because we were making too much noise! It took 60 years to have someone call the cops on me – I am officially rowdy!
I am still trying to wrap my head around the entire night, letting it all sink in. Photos were being taken and I am looking forward to reliving the night - it was all quite a blur! I want to say something profound to describe the sheer joy and gratitude I feel for the people who have filled my heart with love, but it will take some time to find the words. Thank you is not enough, but for now, it’s all I've got! This is Paula – Speechless.
Today’s 3-word Wisdom - Savor life’s surprises. We spend the majority of our life carefully planning and executing our days. If you are the recipient of an unexpected kindness – no matter how large or small – enjoy the surprise. And remember to say thank you – even when you are left speechless.
Friend & family gauntlet awaits our arrival
If only you could see our faces from inside the car!
Daughter looks relieved to have pulled of such a surprise!
The Big Day is now one week away. My “blog therapy” has been a wonderful diversion, and the feedback from family and friends is beyond gratifying. 60 is now just seven days – and seven more blog posts – away. People are asking me how I am doing as the day approaches - I am fine. I really am. After all, it’s just a number. A really BIG number! I have clearly made a lot of noise about this birthday, and am looking forward to what the family has in store to mark my "birthday week” – yep, I get an entire week of fun, thanks to Hubby, Daughter and the Penguins. This is how Paula does 60!
Yesterday on my morning walk, I let myself meet up with someone who I really don’t like. It was Doubting Paula, and she was in my head - doing all she could to get my attention. She is not my friend. She is glass-half-empty Paula, and she is looking at 60 as an end rather than a beginning. I have approached every other decade with optimism for what’s in store - the start of a wonderful new chapter in life. But suddenly Doubting Paula reared her ugly head, and did her best to sell me a different script – one in which I must say goodbye to my pre-60 self. Doubting Paula tried to undo all of the positivity I have been focusing on these past weeks. And what’s worse, she made me cry. How dare she rain on my birthday parade. I picked up my walk pace and left that b*tch in the dust. Doubting Paula is a total downer - she fills my head with thoughts of what I have not accomplished – she sees almost senior citizen Paula, not Super Adult Paula who is going to rock her 60’s with all she’s got. I may even throw myself a party – and guess who’s NOT getting an invitation!
Today’s 3-word wisdom: Ditch the doubters. Those (including the ones residing within your head) who cast agloomy shadow and project negativity along your path don’t belong in your life. Surround yourself with those who fill you with hope, optimism and love. Life is too special a gift - surround yourself with those worthy of sharing it with you.
In 2004, Hubby and I were selected to be contestants on “The Amazing Race - 7” – it was our fifteen milliseconds of fame. We had not auditioned. In fact, Hubby had never heard of the show. The casting director met us while we were participants in the Breast Cancer 3-Day, a 60 mile walk. It was a chance encounter – we were fellow walkers, and had enjoyed a couple of conversations together during our 60 mile journey. Apparently she was desperate to cast one last couple for their upcoming season, and we must have fit the “cute older couple” profile. We were offered the chance to head out in about two weeks, on a whirlwind world adventure, and would be gone for about forty days. Sadly, we had to decline the offer – Hubby had commitments that demanded his attention.
In watching the season’s episodes of “our” race, I imagined myself meeting the challenges of each week’s adventures. Would I have been able to rope a llama? Feed a lion? Could I muster the courage to zip-line across a gorge in the mountains of Peru?
Those of you who know me are already laughing. I am not a thrill-seeker. I avoid scary movies. During my skiing days, I was happiest on the beginner runs. When I travel, I am the one who actually checks the location the nearest emergency exit row. Some would call me a “fraidy cat” – I like to think of myself as sensible. Yet, as each stage of the Amazing Race challenged the contestants to some sort of physical or mental test, I found myself wanting to prove to myself that I could overcome a fear and face a challenge.
My personal Amazing Race moment occurred a couple of years later. I had always been uncomfortable with heights and had a dreadful fear of falling (ask Hubby about our honeymoon, and my panic attack when I thought our elevator was plummeting from the 28th floor – it wasn’t, by the way!). The AR episode that had contestants zip-lining across the Huambutio Gorge in Peru looked incredible. I wanted to do that, and my opportunity came while we were in Maui. Zip line adventures were offered on the upcountry slopes of the Haleakala Crater. This was going to be my moment. Hubby and I signed the release, strapped on the harness and helmet and hiked into the jungle – and then I leapt off a platform and let myself fly across the canyon to the other side – five different times! It was indescribable, and there was such sublime satisfaction in facing a formerly unthinkable challenge – the empowerment was one of my life’s most liberating moments. I am still no thrill-seeker, but my zip line experience taught me that I can do something outside my personal comfort zone and be a stronger person as a result.
Today’s 3-Word Wisdom: Conquer a fear. Staying within your perceived safety zone all the time limits your potential, and cheats you out of opportunities that will enrich your life. Face your fear head on and imagine the satisfaction of taking control. You can do it!
Facing my fear of heights - from the edge of a rock!
Today’s wisdom comes from an inspirational poem, The Dash, by Linda Ellis. I was not familiar with the poem when I first saw the phrase on the shirts worn by a team of fellow walkers at one of the 3-Day for the Cure breast cancer walks in which Hubby and I participate every year. Their shirts had the image of a beautiful young woman who had lost her battle with breast cancer. Her name, along with her birth and death years indicated that she was clearly gone too soon. The team’s name was “Filling our Dash”. Their message?The dates representing the years you begin and end your earthly life are less significant than how you live the years within them – represented by the dash separating the two dates. It is how you fill your dash that defines the person you are.
Last April a special friend lost her four-year long battle with ovarian cancer. She had filled her dash raising two children who would become extraordinary adults. She welcomed her first grandchild the same year her cancer was diagnosed, and filled her dash with precious granddaughter time. She and her husband filled the dash between her chemo rounds with cruises and trips to reunite with long-lost family. Witnessing her strength in the face of death was both heartbreaking and inspirational. She was powerless over the outcome of her journey, but she took control of what she could. She planned her funeral service to the last detail – including the musical selections, the bible readings, and the guardian angel pins with a turquoise stone – symbolic of ovarian cancer awareness – that everyone would receive. In her final weeks she set in motion a complete kitchen remodel of her home, and while she did not live to see its completion, she attended to every last detail and finishing touch. To her, it needed to be done – she wanted her husband to have what he would need to be self-sufficient in her absence. She even instructed her daughter to make sure hubby knew the importance of correctly outfitting her beautiful stainless steel and granite designer kitchen with the proper accessories.Norma, your kitchen is a masterpiece and you are dearly missed – and you are my inspiration for filling one’s dash.
Today’s wisdom: Fill your dash. Life can be fleeting – don’t take it for granted. Live life to its fullest, make a difference, and consider the legacy of your life’s “dash”.
The Dash
I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone from the beginning... to the end.
He noted that first came her date of birth and spoke the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years. (1934-1998)
For that dash represents all the time that she spent alive on earth...
and now only those who loved her know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we won; the cars...the house...the cash,
what matters is how we live and love and how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard.. are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left, that can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough to consider what's true and real,
and always try to understand the way other people feel.
And be less quick to anger, and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives like we've never done before.
If we treat each other with respect, and more often wear a smile.
Remembering that this special dash might only last a while.
So, when your eulogy's being read with your life's actions to rehash...
would you be proud of the things they said about how you spent your dash?
by Linda Ellis
In loving memory of Norma 1953 - 2010
Norma and friends, walking to support ovarian cancer research, May 2009
Norma, her daughter and granddaughter
January, 2010
"We don't stop playing because we get old; we get old because we stop playing!" George Bernard Shaw
Let’s face it. We are a culture of age profilers. Society has carefully marketed a range of socially acceptable behavior and age stereotypes. As parents, we prepared ourselves for the terrible twos, the inquisitive threes, and the social fours. We have been programmed to assume that teens are defiant and twenty-something’s are adventurous. The social expectations of the thirties are marriage and families, and by forty our course has been charted as we lay the groundwork to enjoy the good life in our fifties.
So what are the 60’s supposed to look like? Advertisers portray the decade as an all-out assault on the aging process. We buy sensible shoes. We have stylish disposable undergarment options, and stroll along beaches, remembering the good old days. Our silver hair and wise smiles represent our super adult status, and we receive kind and loving comments of how good we look – for our age – by our young friends. Well, advertisers, I am not drinking your kool-aid! If this is how I am supposed to act, then I am not playing. Yours is NOT my 60’s!
This baby-boomer and her friends are redefining the new and improved sixth decade. Mine includes all of the things I have always loved – “Opera Nights” with Hubby, celebrations with family and friends, and girls’ nights out dressed in strappy sandals and fun dresses. My 60’s will focus on healthy living in order to keep playing – for as long as I want! I have accepted my age, but I refuse give in to the stereotype.
Today’s 3-word wisdom – Act your age. Define each stage in your life by being true to yourself. Take responsibility for your actions and make good choices along your life’s journey. And if you want to play, then play! Treasure your health and enjoy the life you want – not the life you are expected to live.
