Senior Again

The first time I thought being a senior was a big deal, I was 18 years old and in my last year of high school. I looked forward to crossing the threshold into a new and exciting world, filled with new experiences and much-anticipated freedom.

Last night, I celebrated becoming a senior again with new friends I’ve made since moving to Avon Lake. This time, “Senior” means I’m turning 65!

As we sat around a table in a warmly lit restaurant surrounded by a patio lit with twinkly lights, we sipped our chocolate martinis and laughed about stories of forgetfulness and commiserated about our graying hair . Other more serious topics included Medicare, estates & trusts, dermatology, kids & grandkids, husbands & health. Still, there was plenty of laughter and camaraderie.

I couldn’t help reflecting on past birthdays and how conversations with friends have differed over the decades. From talking about boys, driver’s licenses, silly curfews and college in my teens, to weddings and babies in my young adulthood, to teenage kids, divorce, next chapters, and empty nests over the next few decades.

It’s all gone by so quickly, and I’m grateful to have been able to share the years and conversations with some great friends.

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pen

High School Besties on 50th Birthday Cruise

I was a senior a second time in college. It took me fifteen years to get there, and maybe that’s why at the age of 30, I thought I was getting old. REALLY?!?

Thirty-five years later, that makes me laugh. Because for whatever reason, since then, I’ve never really felt as old as I did turning 30.

Anyway. Now, here I am, a senior . . . again. As with the first time I was a senior, I look forward to crossing the threshold into a new and exciting world, (retirement?) filled with new experiences and much-anticipated freedom.