The other day, the little house I bought when I was a single 29-year-old popped into my mind. It wasn’t anything extravagant; a little 3-bedroom ranch, in an ok part of town. But it was mine. Where it was didn’t seem too important. I never expected to be in it all that long. “The long drive to work will be ok,” I thought to myself, “I don’t need to go out so much anyway. I will be fine for a few years.” Just seemed like the thing to do. I ended up being there for 15 years.
A lot happened during those 15 years in that little house; tons of miles on my car, new job, lots of dates, marriage, baby showers for friends, weddings. There were Thanksgiving and Christmas gatherings, going away parties, new friendships, and then separation, divorce and losing my dad … Yes .. A lot happened. Made me think about my recent townhouse purchase. This time, if I stay for 15 years, I will be 63. 63 … I have repeated that number in my head now for a few days. Does not sound possible.
Those 15 years in my little house felt so short, yet a lifetime seemed to happen there. Staying here in my townhouse isn’t mandatory, but if I do, what will these walls witness? Will I be happy here? Things are so very different now. Twelve years ago, a life with someone and having a family was a possibility; that, or at least part of that, has slipped away. What else and who else will slip away? Who might enter my life? Will the years fly by so quickly again? Will I spend them alone? These are things I never put much thought into in the past, but time has become more insistent; it’s telling me it waits for no one or anything.
I have no real plan on how to proceed with my future. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. Plans can go terribly wrong and leave you disappointed or worse yet, heartbroken. No plan, and I may drift aimlessly about or become a hermit and binge watch Netflix. Neither sounds appealing. So for now, I’m going to plan to at least not let either happen. I may need some company on this journey so please leave any comments or thoughts you have on dealing with the inevitable process of aging.
***Note – this little 63 moment I had freaked me out so much, I spent an hour in a half on the phone with a financial advisor. I must at least have a plan to support my cats ….