The Last Day of the Forties

Me, on the last day of 49

[Warning: Self-focused reflective post ahead.]

This is my last morning of being in my forties. It's a very odd feeling. I've been thinking about tomorrow's birthday for quite some time, and I'm not used to the idea yet. I have a feeling I won't get used to it, at least for a few years. In the decades leading up to fifty, one doesn't spend much time imagining what it might be like to become that age. My own parents turned fifty when I was away at boarding school; other than wishing them the usual birthday greetings, it was a non-event. So I don't quite know how to do this.

As Husband and I discussed the impending milestone yesterday, he commented that fifty is harder than forty because you can imagine yourself being twice as old as forty, but it's much harder to imagine doubling your age at fifty. You have to recognize by then that you've probably lived more than half your life. Somewhere along the way you peaked your journey upward to halfway without knowing it.

Fifty is beyond what you can stretch "young" to mean. Fifty is just fifteen short years from the traditional retirement age, although plenty of people are working past sixty-five now. Fifty is where you have to either fight your age in your body or accept it. I've always promised myself I'd accept it graciously--I mean the gray hair, the wrinkles, the saggy-ness. I find that at almost-fifty it's more important to me to live healthfully, so I won't settle for physical decline just yet. Resistance to entropy is the name of the game, and that takes some strategic effort. More exercise, better nutrition, looking out for my own emotional health--I'm being better to myself as I approach fifty.

I once thought I'd be spiritually settled by fifty. But I'm not. I still have questions, doubts still cross my mind, and I still think about taking a vacation from religion the way it's been organized around me all my life. I dream of living more simply, meaningfully and dependently with God, without all the traditions and arguments around me. I've had some surprising spiritual realizations in ramping up to fifty, and I'm still processing them. They are too personal to talk about yet, but they feel like God's special birthday gift to me. My spiritual life gets more precious and personal as time passes. Whether that can be done within my religious community is something I'm on a journey to discover, because I love my religious community. Warts and all, they are some of the finest, most interesting, fully human people on the face of this planet. They are my family. You can leave your family but you can never totally shuck them off. So far I see little point in dragging them around like a carcass behind me. They are still alive.

On this last day before fifty, I will do the things I usually do. I will meet with an accreditation team that has come on campus to evaluate one of our programs. I will meet with faculty in their follow-up appointments to promotion decisions. I will meet with the leadership team of the area I oversee for our weekly confab. I will talk with a chair about reconfiguring a couple of his academic programs. I will tour some problem spots on campus with our master planning committee, and I will welcome the graduate students at their annual Christmas reception. This has been the stuff of my forties.

My twenties were spent primarily in preparation for, and my first six years of teaching. My thirties were spent primarily as a college professor. My forties have been spent as a college administrator. I'm curious about the decade of my fifties. I think there will be some other change in this decade. Or maybe not. In any case, I find myself thankful for the flavor and lessons of each decade so far, and looking forward--not to the age, but the experiences of the decade to come.

And I won't end this without reviewing love life. I am, after all, a woman. I'm glad to have the unsure, unfulfilling dates of my twenties behind me. I loved the independence and security of my single thirties, despite the moments of longing for companionship. The married days, children and grandchildren of my forties have flown by fast and furious, and they have been a blessing beyond anything I've experienced so far. My forties have been full of laughter, love, and a deepening of my ability to be a contributing and committed family member.

And so I pray to live well, in this last day of my forties. And I pray that God will continue to do His good work in me as I peer through the doorway of tomorrow.