I DON'T LIKE MONDAYS

Poor Monday is such an unloved day. Songs have been written about not liking Mondays. Funny signs flood our social media depicting our dislike of Monday. Public Holidays are so often gazetted on a Monday, perhaps because it is perceived to be a 'disposable' day. Or perhaps because that it's the day with the highest rate of absenteeism in the country so they figure they might as well let you have it off when a 'public holiday' is warranted.  THEN we love Mondays.

When it dawned on me that this Monday marks 60 days until I turn 60, I did not like this Monday.
A horrifying thought in itself, an incomprehensible thought! That me, little Cathie Dawn is turning 60 years old.  My grandmother is 60 (in my head). Seems like yesterday we gave my mother-in-law a party when she turned 60 and a few years later celebrated my mother's 60th , but they were OLD !

How is this possible?  When the heck did this happen? Where the hell did the last 40 years go?

"Life is what happens whilst you are busy doing something else"  

Don't get me wrong.  I'm grateful to be turning 60. There were people in my life who did not get that opportunity and I'm sure there is someone in your life whom you love and who did not have the privilege of reaching 60.  It is a privilege.  Live is a privilege, and yet so often we don't treat it that way.

It just goes so damn quick. You wake up and your heading for 60.  That number is still so strange to me. I certainly don't feel 60, well, some days. Although that in itself is a funny thing to say because what should 60 feel like to me?  Maybe I DO feel 60, if this is what 60 is meant to feel like, for me.

I think there are several 'wake up' ages in life. We have the opportunity to reassess life and make changes at any time, but we seem to wait for a 'big' birthday to reflect on our life and our choices.
I remember at 30 going, WOW, I made 30!  I was about to have my fourth child, and loving life. Probably one of the best 'seasons' in life for me.

By 40 I was so busy and happy, life was good. I had interesting, entertaining children; the best dog ever; a home I loved; a faithful, hardworking (often too hardworking) husband and a great job and wonderful friends to share a wine or three with.

50 was a bit of a shocker. I was a grandmother and kids had left home, although I need not have worried about that, they come back.  At 50 I felt very different. No longer a 'mother', not in the same way I had been for 30 years, life changed quite dramatically then.

The past 10 years have been a whirlwind of selling businesses, selling houses, moving, weddings, grandbabies, dogs, elderly parent responsibilities and then BAM, here comes 60.

I don't feel the same anxiety about life changes that I did at 50, it's  more of a subtle, personal wondering about who I am now and what the future holds. Am I the person others perceive me to be?  Am I a character I have created to perform my 'rolls' in life? Am I a combination of it all, the lonely child; the naive, insecure teenage; the fulfilled devoted mother; the dutiful wife and daughter; sewist; photographer; dog enthusiast?
Or is there something, someone, yet to be discovered?

Cathie Dawn, who are you now?