On an ordinary Monday morning in 2005 my sister Gay died.
It was sudden and unexpected.
A heart attack stole her away as we worked out, side by side, at the gym.
She was forty-seven and I was forty-six.
By the time I decided there was no one to blame for Gay’s passing, I was fifty-something … an age Gay would never experience. I know she would have loved her fifties; she would have lived every depth, breadth and height of them.
So I’ve resolved to love and live them for both of us. It’s such a privilege to be here!
This blog celebrates being fifty-something (for both of us).
It’s about the good, the bad and the brilliant. A little bit of bad sandwiched in to keep it real, but mostly about embracing and being grateful for the experience of being fifty-something. Think: a world of bucket lists, acceptance and wisdom like I’ve never had before (punctuated by rascally chin hair and the inevitable cloak of invisibility).
Besides, as my twenty-something son points out, documenting my fifties is a wise move … since I’m unlikely to remember them for much longer.
Some background: I live in Geelong, Victoria, Australia with my husband Mr P. We’ve been together forever and have two adult children, My Girl and Boy Wonder. You won’t see much of Mr P about here. He believes the Internet is the tool of the devil (except for the god who created YouTube and all those videos that show you how to reverse multi-axle trucks and trailers around corners).
We’re thinking about downsizing, travelling and perhaps even relocating somewhere remote. We enjoy frugal living and the freedom it gives us to splash out on favourite things without compromising our retirement “rest-egg”.
I run a freelance copywriting business over here. I love antiques and collectables (I was a second-hand dealer in another life), thrifting, sustainable/ethical living and opportunism.
I hope you’ll join me as I seek out and share the true meaning of being fifty-something.