Thoughts on turning 50

The thing about turning 50 is I never really thought about it. I mean, yes, I thought about it from my mid 40s as an upcoming dreadstone but earlier in life, it just never occurred to me. I thought about being 21 and what it would mean to be an adult. And then I thought about 30 as being a “grown up”. I remember in grammar school doing the calculation of when I would be 30. 1996. 20 years ago now, 20 years ago from then. I thought about 40 as being done with being “young” and while that was true in many ways I felt my mind rejuvenated in my 40s and my body not being that much different that my 30s. The first time I really thought about 50 was when I thought past it -- a little while after my 45th birthday I realized I was closer to 60 than 30. But here I am at 50. It was waiting for me.

My parents now have seven children mostly happy and healthy children 50 years and older with one more in his mid 40s. That’s amazing. My mom (RIP) is smiling somewhere. Even if that smiling is just in our hearts. Children turning 50 went from exceptional to normal. I want to say that my parents had parties for the first chidren 50 but that petered out when it got to the fourth or fifth one. Certainly by the sixth. This a prize your don’t necessarily want to win -- first to 50. My 50th landed on a Monday and Mondays is when I make my weekly call to my dad. I called him and we did our normal five minutes of small talk. I did not raise the subject of birthday nor did he. I don’t think it dawned on him it was my birthday. He has eight of us plus 15 grandchildren to keep track of. And four great grandchildren.

My dad was never great to be around on his birthday or father’s day. It always felt like no matter what we did we were slighting him in some way. Or that he could not just relax and accept the attention. I inherited this party pooper bit. I like to think not to the same level and that my self awareness that i was being a party pooper let me put on a good face even if in the inside my ego was sounding the underappreciated, leave me alone mantra. This year, I felt content.

I was thinking about why I felt content. One is just the absence needed to feel appreciated. It wasn’t like anything really changed externally -- no one set off fireworks with my name spelled in the sky -- it’s just that the feeling was gone. That in itself is a relief and I am grateful for it. The other  thing that really touched me is I could tangibly feel my children’s affection for me. On my birthday night, I told them the story of how the one day a year my mom let me choose what was for dinner was on my birthday. On how nearly every year I choose tacos. Which was why we were having tacos, at home, on my 50th dinner. Shilan came by and had dinner with us and I was grateful for her this past year too. When it came time to cut the cakes, it was just me and my kids; Aidan, Lydia, and Elisa. Prompting me to make a wish. As I cut the cake I already had it.

Aidan will be fifty in 2053, a mere 37 years away. Lydia, in 2054. Elisa in 2058. Kids, call me, I’ll try to stay up.