....what does 60 feel like

Yogis,
I turned the big 6-0 in early January. With the hoopla of Christmas winding down I marked the day with a simple family gathering. Home made fajitas at our house with my sons, daughter-in-law, sister in laws and grandkids. Even tiny one week old baby Ben joined in. Grateful for my family.

Everyone started asking me how it felt to be 60…..

My sister in the background continued nudging me to come up with an additional way to celebrate ‘me’ and this milestone. I don’t always find this easy, so she suggested we all meet at the beach and she would cook a special dinner. My sister happens to be an amazing cook, so yes!

Last weekend was the date we put on the calendar. Last weekend was also the date a blizzard put a bulls eye on her calendar for the mid-Atlantic coast.

Boots, snow shovels, enough food for a week, candles, flashlights……packed. Off we go!

Friday, we arrive and go into town for a drink. You can feel the electricity in the air. Everyone waiting for that first flake. The weatherman said it should begin at 7. Then moved it to 8. At 8:30 nothing. I had the house ready, the fire burning in the fireplace. Twinkle lights turned on. Eagerly waiting. The same giddy anticipation I felt as a child with my face pressed against the cold window.

I walked out to the deck and can feel it. Then I smell it. I now see flakes lit by the light. Memories flood in. I remember this sensation. There is something about the beginning of a snowstorm that tells you when it is going to be a big one. My heart beats faster and I yell into the house that it has begun!

I woke every hour and looked out the window. The later it got the harder it was to see through the windblown snow stuck to the window screens. The streetlight my gauge of intensity. By morning there is a foot of snow on the ground with swirling winds.

I want to be out in it! Boots, long coat, neck warmer, hat, mittens. Remembering my pink snow coat and baggies over my shoes inside rubber boots from when I was young. Being so bundled up you couldn’t bend your joints.  It’s coming down hard as we walk the neighborhood and head for the beach. Every tree a piece of art. The air so silent we can hear our breath.

The candy store’s brightly colored sign on the boardwalk blanketed in snow. The sound of waves mixed with wind. I discover that the fencing used to hold in sand dunes also does an excellent job of holding in snow. As we walk through it is up to our thighs and I start laughing. I felt like the 5 years old me walking in Chicago during a blizzard. Struggling to lift each leg enough to take another step. Knowing if I fall down, it will be a struggle to get up.

That night, like teenagers, we braved the roads to get to the dinner. Nothing like a blizzard to set the mood! We ate, played games and danced to a playlist of 60 dance songs under the disco ball hung from the beams. Sensations of college.

We wrapped up the weekend on Sunday by watching football games while eating grilled cheese sandwiches and Campbell’s tomato soup. Images of my mom in the kitchen when I was young and me dotting the bread with butter when my boys were young. The tastes in my mouth haven’t changed.

So how does it feel to be 60? Honestly no different than when I was 5…..or 15…..or 25…..or 40.  Yes the body has changed. I know more. I’ve experienced more. But the me on the inside, that quiet part that lies below the thoughts, below the emotions, below the doing….never changes. It is what makes me, me, and is eternally young.  

And I don’t have to shave my legs as much,
SARAH