Turning Fifty

It is not a mile marker; it is a milestone.

It is not a corner to turn; it is a crossroads.

It is not kindergarten, or teen angst, or a driver’s license, or a first vote, or a first drink, or a rental car, or an age of “something.”

It is all those things rolled into one leading up to this point on the path of sidewinding life.

Life renews now for something grander than before.

Growing pains have vanished while the lines of wisdom gain momentum with exuberant beauty.

It is a midpoint in this thing we call life counting high towards 100.

Always reaching! Always thinking positive!

It is Tin, atomically speaking, when in its solidified pure state reflects as a mirror seeing the reflection of yourself as “fifty-fifty.”

It is golden, a jubilee of life shimmering as the sun rises at dawn.

It is a collection of states, United that is, where every experience in your life happens somewhere, and is tied to a unique, specific place nestled in the photo box in your mind.

Vision and hearing seem to begin a slow decline with shiny spectacles and louder volume as accoutrements to enhance the evolved view of the wonderful world mixed with the sagacity and savvy plucked along the way.

Thirty was denial, Forty was scary, Fifty is freedom.

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