I was born on May 5, 1945, just three days before VE day, honoring the end of World War II in Europe. I was a child in the 1950’s Leave It to Beaver era, which ended abruptly for me when my father died in 1959. I was a young adult when bland President Eisenhower gave way to charismatic Jack Kennedy, and I was swept up in the rise of the civil rights movement, women’s liberation, and the culture of drugs and free love. I joined the Peace Corps in 1967, and went to rural Panama. Back in the States I married, had two children, became an educator and then a financial executive, partnered with my husband in launching a business, wrote a book, rode a bike from Argentina into Chile over the Andes Mountains. Widowed in 2002 and retired in 2010, I left the east coast for the Pacific northwest. I live there now, close to my adult kids and grandkids.
My life has spanned a tumultuous and significant era.
I turned 71 in May of 2016, which seems personally significant. I’m happy to be 71, especially contrasted with the premature deaths of an infant sister, my father, and my husband. I’m bemused by having to think like a 71 year old, as in how I respond to my health care plan who wants to send a visiting nurse to my home to be sure I’m not going to slip on loose rugs, that I’m eating regularly, and that I’m not socially isolated. I am, in their demographic, elderly.
“Bemused”, for me, translates into stories. I intend in this section to share stories of my own aging, as honestly as I can. I won’t write every day as I do in the blog, and not even every week or month. I don’t expect to notice signs of aging so rapidly. I will write when I experience something that seems to me triggered by my advancing age. As with all sections on this site, your comments are welcome, and if you write something to me I will respond.