Life Begins at Sixty?

One of my best friends from high school took this photo of me on Stinson Beach, near where I used to live in Marin County, California.  We had been out of high school a couple years and she came to visit me one summer.  We were so young, full of ideas, goals, dreams, fears, and everything in between that 19-year-old college students think about.  I had not even met my husband Bill yet, and of course my two wonderful daughters were not even of this earth yet.  This photo is my youngest daughter’s favorite photo of me.  I had forgotten about it for a long time.  Then I turned sixty this past weekend, and for some reason the photo took on new meaning.  What was I thinking about while walking into that breath-taking California sunset?  Did I achieve my dreams?  Turning sixty made me think of my grandmother.  I was very young when she was sixty and I thought she was so old!  Now that I am at the same age, I realize it’s not as old as I thought it would be.  I have so much more to say about being sixty and some of life’s challenges that have come up recently, but that will be for another time.  All I want to say now is how much I love my family and friends;  and that I am grateful to all of my faithful readers who enjoy my blog because somewhere in that young mind on the beach, I knew that I loved cooking, which is an activity that brings us together all over the world.  One of the greatest joys on earth is sitting down to a table of family and friends with good food, lively conversation, and love for each other.  And it only gets better and more meaningful with age.