Sixty-five

         Perseverance can pay off.

Sixty-five is a monumental year for most. In years past, it used to be the time to retire, but no one retires these days. It’s a year that means senior discounts begin, and Medicare. The brochures arrive daily, advertising Medicare options, reminders that it is time to enroll, and encouraging offers from the Neptune Society. None of it is needed now.

March 3rd, the day Gary would have been sixty-five and now, in the year of firsts it’s the first time we haven’t celebrated his birthday.

Sixty-five used to seem old, but somehow, it doesn’t seem that old anymore. I am nowhere near retiring, in a way; I am just starting out again. During this year of firsts, there are more than just holidays to contend with, there are the first time experiences like negotiating a new car deal and even though I ended up getting help from a friend’s broker, I felt confident, thanks to years of listening to Gary talk about the car business, talking the car talk and was clear about what I wanted.

There is the first time tax preparation, gathering the documents, touching every page. There is the feeling of pride when I am told I am an “accountant’s dream.” I’ve always been organized and learned a few years back to understand finances enough to make sense of my life.

This was going to be the year we started planning our travels, a year we would enjoy the rewards of our years of work. This was supposed to be the beginning of the golden years, but there are a lot of things that aren’t fair these days. In this time of discrimination, deportation and deceit there are people fighting for equality, fighting for health care and fighting for opportunity.

This is a time of broken dreams and broken hearts. Our hearts ache for loss, but also for the hate that seeps into the unnoticed cracks, the hate that is dismissed and ignored and the cruelty seemingly “normal” people subliminally inflict on others. I’m more sensitive to the broken-hearted and the fearful now.

I am starting out again on a path that I selfishly feel is my own, but a path that many others walk alone with me.

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Filed under change, death, Life thoughts

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