When I began writing this column more than a decade ago, I was a longtime staff writer at this newspaper and a new grandmother. Fast-forward to today: I am retired, the grandmother of five and I recently turned 70.
Seventy.
I am 70.
When you turn 70, you accept, maybe for the first time, you’re old. You’ve successfully rounded the bases and you’re heading home. You calculate how old your parents or grandparents were when they died, and you hope you live at least as long as the oldest of those family members, which, in my case, was my paternal grandmother who died at 93. That would give me 23 more years. I’d be good with that.
At 93, I’d get to see my grandchildren become adults and what careers they chose.
My oldest, Tilleigh, 15, is already a talented actress. Will she pursue that as a career?
Evie, 12, is an athlete with a heart of gold. Her compassion for the underdog has her speaking up for others’ rights. Maybe she’ll be a lawyer like her grandfather.
William, 10, is a computer whiz. My son, a scientist who is the head of a research company, already wants to hire him.
My youngest granddaughters, Charleana, 5, and Misha, 3, are athletic, smart and bilingual. I’m curious to see the interests they pursue as they get older.
I want to be around to see it all, but that’s what we all want, isn’t it?
I’ve always said I’m the richest person I know because I realize you don’t measure happiness by dollars; you measure it by love — and I’m saturated in it.
Three of my grandchildren live next door, and the youngest two live in California. I am on-my-knees thankful that I get to see the oldest three nearly every day, and FaceTime allows me to frequently virtually visit the youngest two.
I take William to and from school every day, so I spend five hours each week in car lines. I’m grateful for the opportunity. The time we spend together in the car is worth every second I spend sitting in the car line. He’s happy to see me when he gets in my car both times each day, and we never stop talking. Our conversations are priceless.
I do know each day on this Earth is a gift, and I’m thankful to have celebrated another birthday. Whatever my future holds, I’ll make every day the best.
Contact Karen Nazor Hill at khill@timesfreepress.com.