Eight Days and Counting

Eight days left. It is interesting how this birthday, physically, is the same as every other birthday, and yet, emotionally and socially, it stands alone. People tell me “it’s just a number,” and yet, like it or not, it does represent a significant, if artificial, milestone in our society.
I have found it amazing, the way that some news sources, article writers and even health professionals refer to people who have reached 50. I have seen references that include those aged 50 and above in the classifications of “older workers” and “seniors.” One 52 year old woman was even described as “elderly” in a news story about how she rescued a young boy from an attacking dog. Elderly?
It even seems that, at 50, I may be too old claim having a “midlife crisis,” as this seems to be something women are describing in greater numbers starting at age 40. The most shocking thing to me is how, suddenly, 50 years seem to have quickly compressed behind me – with whole decades of my life barely making an indent on my gray matter. Combine that with the relatively short expanse of time I see in front of me – let’s face it, I have most likely already passed the lifetime halfway point. Considering all the things I thought I had time left to do, it is enough to create panic. And a good deal of sadness and mourning for those things that will never be. How anyone can reach this point in life without at least giving a passing thought to mortality, accomplishment and legacy is a mystery to me. How I can not obsess over it in the next 8 days – and maybe longer – is also a mystery to me.