I Used to Think 50 Was Old

The key to youth

Photo by Katarzyna Grabowska on Unsplash

The other day my neighbour asked my age. For a moment I couldn’t remember. I genuinely didn’t know. I had to do the math.

It’s probably because after 50 I stopped counting.

50 was bad enough. On that birthday I was at a school quiz night with a table of other moms. I foolishly let it slip that it was my birthday. A friend, a decade my…