In the blogging landscape, there’s a growing trend of reflecting on pivotal moments in life, with titles like “This is Childhood” and “This is 39.” These narratives capture the essence of a particular age or stage, allowing us to pause and savor the bittersweet beauty of time. As I approach 50, I find myself reflecting on my journey, contemplating what it means to be nearly halfway through life, or perhaps just at the start of a new chapter, depending on how one looks at it. With my 48th birthday on the horizon, I feel compelled to explore the myriad experiences that define this age.
For me, 48 brings forth a sense of NOSTALGIA. I reminisce about the days when I could cradle my son, who is now a young man, and assure him that everything would be alright. I think back to when all four of my children were still at home, and my own childhood memories flood my mind—those carefree moments when I played kick the can with neighborhood friends until the sun set and my parents never worried about where I was. It was a time before smartphones and social media, with vinyl records and cassette tapes, when my sister and I would argue over the best spot on our cozy green couch to watch Charlie’s Angels or Fantasy Island.
Then there’s COVER-UP. I see the women around me striving to enhance their appearances, tightening and smoothing their skin in a quest to defy aging. I often wonder if I should join them, spending too much on “age-defying” products. It’s a struggle to accept that, no matter how many healthy choices I make or how I style my hair, I can’t hold onto my youth forever; it’s slipping away, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
SEARCHING has become a dominant theme in my life. I find myself on a quest for meaning—seeking my roots, spirituality, and a deeper understanding of my Jewish identity. This journey has led me to study with an Orthodox rabbi and engage with a Reform synagogue, all while wrestling with my roles as a woman, mother, daughter, and friend.
Life feels DISORIENTING at this stage, with my children at various points in their lives—one in college, another in high school, a third in junior high, and my youngest in grade school. Some days, I find myself juggling a playdate for one while discussing a sorority date party with another. The recent celebration of one son’s Bar Mitzvah contrasts sharply with the upcoming high school graduation of my other son. It’s surreal to think my oldest daughter will graduate from college just as my youngest is having her Bat Mitzvah. I also find it strange to be preparing for my 30-year high school reunion, recalling vivid (and often embarrassing) memories as if they were just yesterday.
UNCERTAINTY looms large. Did I make the right choice to leave my career behind to stay home with my kids? Am I ready to return to work, and who would even hire me now? Each day presents new decisions for my children and myself, alongside the existential questions about why tragedy strikes good people and the fear of the unknown—what will it be like to be an empty nester, or to grow old, or to face death?
Then there’s PERIMENOPAUSE. It’s chaotic—filled with emotional swings, forgetfulness, and an overwhelming sense of exhaustion for no apparent reason. I find myself torn between the allure of medication to calm the storm and opting for writing, meditation, and yoga as my tools for self-care.
WORK encompasses my writing, teaching yoga, and community service—activities that keep me grounded despite their limited financial return. My husband works tirelessly to support us, ensuring everyone has clean clothes and decent meals while I try to create structure and joy in our lives.
LETING GO has become essential. I’m learning to release the expectations of who I thought I should be—an accomplished author or a renowned public relations expert—and instead, embrace who I am. I’m also letting my children grow, accepting that I cannot control their paths or even my own.
TRANSITION is a constant theme, as I navigate the shift from youthful parenting to caring for aging parents, all while confronting my own aging process. This journey has taught me to be more patient and compassionate, prompting a mindful approach to life.
Amidst everything, I hold onto GRATITUDE for my life’s blessings and the incredible people within it. I appreciate the resilience of my marriage through challenging times, my health, and the experiences I can share with new mothers after years of sleepless nights and parenting challenges.
ACCEPTANCE of my past scars—mental health struggles, fears, and loneliness—allows me to face my demons and acknowledge the imperfections of my life. I embrace my flaws while cherishing my drive to care and give love.
Finally, FREEDOM emerges as I prioritize relationships and passions that uplift and inspire me. I’m learning to step away from draining connections and take the time to invest in self-care and authenticity.
Ultimately, it is about THE MOMENT—recognizing that this very moment is what truly counts. I take the time to practice mindfulness, focusing on the now, and truly seeing my children for who they are. I no longer rush toward the next phase; instead, I long for time to stand still so I can fully appreciate it all.
And above all, it is LOVE—for my husband of 23 years, for my wonderfully unique children, and for the family and friends who enrich my life daily. Each day is a precious gift.
This is my 48.
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Summary
Approaching 48, I reflect on nostalgia, the impact of aging, and the search for meaning in life. Transitioning through motherhood, uncertainty, and personal growth, I embrace gratitude, acceptance, and love, recognizing each moment as a precious gift.