I have big plans for the year ahead. Midway through the year, I'll be celebrating my 60th birthday. It's come so fast, I find it hard to believe. When I was young, birthdays were like Christmas, arriving at a snail's pace. Now, they practically bump into each other.
     Do you remember when it seemed you would never be old enough to get your driver's license? I didn't think the day would ever come that I'd slide behind the wheel and drive my mother's car to the White Castle on Lake Street. So long ago, yet it seems like last week.
     I don't remember my parents turning 60. Back then, people didn't seem to like getting older. Even now, I see birthday banners strung across garage doors reading, "Over the hill." Not at my house. When the big day arrives, I'll want to jump and down, click my heels together in the air, and dance a jig.
     When my husband turned 60, I planned to throw a big party for him. "It's no big deal," he said. He felt, with people living so much longer, the real celebration should be decades away. I see his point now. Most of my friends are already, or will soon be, the same age. According to a recent article in USA Today, close to three million baby boomers will have turned 60 by the end of this year.
     In the same article, Robert Butler, president of the International Longevity Center-USA said, "Sixty may well be the new 40, at the moment."
     That's promising, isn't it? A reprieve. I don't know about you, but I had hoped to get a lot more done by the time I reached this age. Not that I ever made one of those lists I've read about: the hundred things a person hopes to do before they reach a certain age. Things like climb a mountain, hit a hole in one, or swim with dolphins. I never wrote it down but I did want to complete a marathon by the time I hit the half-century mark. With that out of the way, I never gave a thought to 60.
     My intention was to know more than I do. To make a difference. Be a good person. Not famous or well-accomplished, but someone who leaves a lasting impression. Every time I listen to a funeral eulogy, I wonder what will be said about me when it's my turn to leave this earth.
     Perhaps that's why the first verse of Happy Christmas, a John Lennon song I heard on the radio Christmas Day, has been playing over and over in my head:
            so this is Christmas
            and what have you done
            another year older
            a new one just begun
     According to the National Center for Aging (also in the USA Today article), women live an average of 23.8 years after the age of 60. Armed with that knowledge and the prodding from Mr. Lennon, I'd say it's time to get started on that list. Twenty-three years will go by in a flash.
     Happy New Year!