I’ve been contemplating this for a while, as you can deduce seeing that I turned 62 in September. I want to let the world know, life can begin again at 60!
I started my sixties in a somewhat dark place. I was depressed, but still able to function. A little background. In 2009, my father passed away. He just gave up and quit eating and drinking. I was able to get him to eat a little bit and drink a little water, but it wasn’t enough. My father passed away one day before my parents’ 59th wedding anniversary. It was also four days before my son graduated from high school.
I had to keep it together for my mother and my son. I knew there would be consequences since I never had a chance to grieve, but you do what you have to do. Fast forward to 2014 and I was functionally depressed. Before my father died, I weighed 143 and I was in good physical shape. On my 60th birthday, I weighed close to 170, if not that. Needless to say, I don’t have a record of my weight then.
I did have an old friend come into my work. I’m a cashier at a large home improvement store. He’s a handyman. I met him when I was 20 and even though we had our fun, I didn’t really like a lot of things about him. You know how it is. He was a definite bad boy.
Fast forward forty years and he’s still a “bad boy”, but he’s changed a lot. I pretty much brushed him off and avoided him until I got a letter from the city telling me to make some repairs on my house. Next time I saw my friend was just before the deadline. I told him my problem and he said, “You do know I’m a handyman”. I said yes, that was why I was telling him. He agreed to come look at my house to see what he could do. He then asked me if I was going to pay him. I said, of course, I wouldn’t expect him to work for free.
It was while he was working on the house that I found out how much he had changed. I would have to say that that was the beginning of my own transformation.