Milestone’s Eve

I turn 60 tomorrow. 60. Sixty. It seems unbelievable somehow, yet completely logical and in line for where I am in my life.

I don’t dread it or feel old. I’m rather excited by it, to be honest. A few years back I assumed I would be celebrating in Canada, but Covid had other plans.

I remember my milestones. I remember Turing 30, 40, 50. I remember in my 30’s realizing that youth is fleeting. I remember discovering there were successful people who were younger than me.

Doctors, rock stars, people who had achieved seemingly great things in less time than I had been on earth.

But, mostly I’m thrilled about turning 60. Much of that has to do with the fact so many people in my life never made t this far. People who left this earth far too early.

About three weeks after I turned 40, I was sitting on the edge of my futon at my impossibly small one room apartment at Broadview and Danforth. I felt almost a wave wash over me. It was the realization that I don’t give a fuck.

Who cares what I’m wearing or if my thighs rub together. I thought, why kill yourself to please other people. Just do you, as the kids say.

So that’s what I did. If people don’t like me the way I am, they can fuck off. And do you know what? Many of them did, and continue to do just that.

So, here’s to embracing 60 and kissing goodbye to the last possible fuck I have to give.