I just turned 70! Yes, it’s true. As my sweet son said, “Mom, you are an exemplar of the notion that 70 is the new 50.” I said he’s sweet! My birthday falls around Thanksgiving and sometimes on the day itself. It’s also the date my grandfather, OP, died; and John F. Kennedy was assassinated. Those were not happy birthdays at all!
It has always been a festive day (with those exceptions). full of fun, family, food, and football. My dad usually had a game broadcasting on the radio (and later the TV) in every room–except the dining room–and would go from room to room to stay current on the scores. The hard-cooking women would have to time the dinner and desert courses during half-times. My oldest son inherited that footall gene. My cousins have it too–maybe it came from the maternal and the paternal line!
Turning 70 was really painless. My long journey was my present to myself and is really the gift that keeps on giving. I’m still enjoying and processing memories and facts and determining how to integrate them into the memoire I’m writing. My women friends hosted a wonderful birthday lunch which was fun, moving, and very interesting. Each of them is an extremely talented person. I was the lucky beneficiary of their clever take on celebrating such a hoary age.
My yoga instructor left us with the following quote from Rumi this morning: “Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of that which you love.”