Yesterday I woke up like any other morning. I opened my eyes and saw the bedroom walls that need painting — a project that’s somehow dropped to the bottom of our to-do list.
As I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my sciatica felt no better or no worse than it did the day before. Martha, who also suffers from arthritis, slowly walked toward the door so I’d let her out. Smitty waited for my nod so he could jump on the bed and snooze a little longer with Rick.
I went downstairs and put on water for tea, then swallowed my blood pressure pill and the calcium plus vitamin D. Everything I did was exactly like the day before. Only one thing was different. It was my birthday.
Last week I watched an interview with Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot whose book, “The Third Chapter: Passion, Risk, and Adventure in the 25 years After 50” divides our lives in 25-year chapters. According Sara, I should have abandoned my routine and sought out my passion when I turned 50, at the beginning of my third chapter.