On Turning Fifty by Susan L.

    The only other birthday that has given me pause or angst was when I turned forty-five. Five years ago I was struggling with depression and the turn my life had taken. Five years ago I was terribly sick still although much healing had taken place. It feels like ages have passed. Next month is one of the biggies. Fifty: five-o. Ouch. Like I said, birthday milestones haven't bothered me before. Perhaps it's because in earlier years being busy with children, the farm, home renovations and the like haven't left any time for reflection.
  There is a group of women I know who will reach the same milestone in and around the same time. We've had several chances to talk. Most of the conversations are spent wandering down memory lane as we discussed the evolution of television, music, technology. The "remember whens" were thick as one recollection brought to mind another. We relished the freedom we had as children to play outside. On the heels of that is grieving the state of the world and our youth who rarely get outside. A conversation that has taken place every generation I am sure.
  We were born in the last years of the baby boom, 1963-64. Too late for Elvis and the Beatles to have been part of our teens. Too late for flower power. In a way our sense of place was defined by being on the outside or too late to be part of great societal events or, perversely, too early. Most of the technological advances would be the realm of our children. Although, I vaguely remember my mom turning on the TV in the middle of the day, an unusual event, so we could watch one of the Apollo rocket launches. In black and white. Even that was nearing the end of its funding.
  Doug and Bob Mackenzie, popular characters on TV who poked fun at our Canadian identity, drove fashion, eh. In high school, work boots and plaid flannel shirts were all the rage for boys and girls. Jeans were worn so tight they may have well been sprayed on. It's a wonder our innards are intact.
  But that's all surface stuff.
  I would like turning fifty to be an opportunity to discover my place in the world unhindered by job titles and duties. As hard as it was, the last difficult decade was spent weeding the garden of my soul. Seeds of understanding have been carefully nurtured as I struggled and continue to struggle with mental health challenges. Hopefully, and prayerfully, the next decade will be one of harvest. Maybe that's what being fifty is all about.
  "But a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her own works praise her in the gates." Prov 30:31