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If anyone had asked me what I anticipated as my life as I turned 77 years old, I’d never imagined I’d be getting ready to pack to leave for Africa in nine days.
Instead, I imagined living in Minnesota, perhaps in a retirement community with Tom, surrounded by seniors like us, socializing, visiting the doctor once a month, cooking for guests, and frequently visiting family. Sure, I may have been active with hobbies, various activities, girl’s lunches, dining out with Tom, and frequent walks in the neighborhood.
We’d entertain frequently, and I’d try new and interesting recipes and prepare beautiful place settings for our guests, as I’d done in our old lives. We’d attend various events for our teenage (and older) grandchildren, four now over 18, and make a fuss over holidays and birthdays.
It would have been a good life.
But this life??? It’s made of dreams I never understood or fathomed in decades past.
First, I never expected to be in love at 77 years old. How odd that sounds! But I am as attracted to Tom today as I was 34 years ago when we met in 1991. The magic is as alive today as it ever was, if not more, when we’ve filled our hearts and minds with a plethora of outstanding, unique, and adventurous experiences in the past 12-plus years of world travel, which began when I was 64 years old (four months shy of 65). Tom was almost 59 (two months shy of 60).
After a one-hour break from posting to chat with our dear friends Rita and Gerhard, who called to wish me a happy birthday, it’s time to work out and get on with my day. We’re heading to Richard’s home around 4:15 and then to dinner with him and his girlfriend. There’s nothing I’d rather do to celebrate my birthday!
Thanks to our dear readers and friends who’ve wished me a happy birthday. You all mean the world to me!
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, February 20, 2015:
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