Turning 75
I’ve never been seventy-five before. 2025 always seemed to be so far into the future. It was way out there, like the stars and the Milky Way. Years ago, I thought people my age looked and acted much older. Where are my support stockings and sensible shoes?
I am now three-quarters of a century, and I’ve had an awakening. I’m not wasting time anymore pretending that I have all the time in the world to live. Every minute, every hour, every day is one that I treasure, knowing that I won’t pass this way again. At this age, the days are less like a continuation and more like a gift. A gift to be opened each morning when I wake up.
I started thinking several years ago, how I wanted to celebrate my diamond jubilee year. I considered going someplace, maybe renting an Airbnb and getting family together, or just having a big party, but any plan I came up with always ended with one thought in mind – whatever I did, I wanted my day, and my year, to be shared with my family. After all, they have been a big part of my journey.
My family has been the thread that has been running through it all. At seventy-five, the family you carry in your heart isn’t just in a holiday photo or Sunday phone call. They’re in the way they hug, say I love you, share books and stories with you, text, or call, and sincerely want to spend time with you.
I have two sons. The oldest, Jesse, was always ahead in everything he did. He walked early, was a dependable child even in kindergarten, and grew up with a desire to explore and discover the world. Jesse sees the world in primarily black and white. At my birthday luncheon, Jesse commented that he had known me longer than anyone else there. That is true because there’s no one else in the family still alive who would have known me longer. Our Mother/Son relationship started in 1976.
Bryan, twenty-one months later, was a quiet child. He seemed to carry the weight of things, his, mine, the world’s. There was a steadiness in him that both reassured me and broke my heart a little because he has always felt the pain and sadness of others. His world is not black and white. He operates more in the gray area of life. He’s known me the second longest since 1977.
But oddly enough, they’re both products of pieces and parts of me. I have been forced to live within a black and white world. It can be necessary at times for survival, but I’ve also lived with the emotional sadness of loss, trauma, and hurt, and I have an uncanny ability to feel that in others. My two sons have shaped me, one with logic and the other with emotion, which has always held me together. They refer to me as the Matriarch of the Family, because I’m at the top of the food chain, but I don’t feel very matriarchal at times because I need them now a lot more than they need me.
So, my family made my 75th birthday special. This included my spouse, my stepdaughter, my daughters-in-law, my grandchildren, and their partners. They carefully planned every detail to ensure that the focus was on my special day. And, not just one day but a series of days of togetherness, and an outpouring of love. I couldn’t have asked for anything better!
I’m blessed beyond measure, and I don’t take my blessings or my family for granted. Seventy-five is great, and I’m marching on to what comes next.
