Thirty-one walks, thirty-one posts.
I walked into my last trimester today.
Okay, maybe I will get lucky and live a few years beyond ninety like most of my grandparents. But I doubt I 'll hit a hundred and twenty, so let me restate.
I walked into my last full trimester today.
If you've followed this blog from the beginning, you know its name comes from my mother's untimely passing from ALS. She didn't make it to her third trimester. As of today, I'm gifted with nine more years than she got to experience life. Nine more years with my husband and children. Nine more years to grow and learn and serve and love. Nine more years of sunrises and sunsets, hugs and kisses, sights and sounds.
Nine more years of learning who I am and who I want to be.
Sixty is starting off with some health challenges, but they are manageable and will be overcome within a month, I hope.
Sixty will be discovering who I am beyond the labels of teacher and school librarian, reigniting my sense of purpose and service in a new work environment.
Sixty will hopefully remember how to play, even while working.
Sixty will be more careful choosing when and where I expend my time, money, and energy.
Sixty will be taking more walks, and not just from home to car to work to car to home, like today, because Sixty is tired of sixty hour workweek.
Do you think of your life in trimesters? Do you measure by years, or are there different markers? Which one are you in? What are you looking forward to being and doing in the last trimester of your life?
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